


The sweet-scented desert flower (that grows in my backyard)

by chailattemusings



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Burns, Cuts, M/M, myth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 73,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several months after he started work with them, Michael Jones moves to Austin as a full time Rooster Teeth employee. However, being a popular Internet star challenges his sense of safety, because Michael has a secret; he’s lived the past several centuries as a phoenix, the mythical firebird only known in legend. Taking human form the past few decades, Michael is put on edge when he arrives in Texas. A funny British boy named Gavin Free takes an immediate interest in him, and will stop at nothing to get close to him. Michael can’t risk anyone finding out who he truly is, but Gavin’s strange allure draws him in until Michael forgets his true identity and loses himself in his human relationships. Despite how strong their connection might be, love between a mortal and immortal can only end in heartbreak.</p><p>Accompanying art, done by ghostlyfiendfromdownunder: http://ghostlyfiendfromdownunder.tumblr.com/post/69043441398/i-am-awful-and-i-apologise</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hiding who I am is of no consequence to you

**Author's Note:**

> A side note: Millie is a minor character is this work. This was before I knew Geoff had asked for her not to be put in fanfiction. That shouldn't be an excuse, but it's why I wrote her in, as an addition to the Ramsey family characters. In hindsight it makes sense not to, because she's a minor not in control of her public presentation. I want to adhere to Geoff's request in the future. Eventually I am going to rewrite this story and take Millie out as a character because she is just a child and it's not right to put her in this. I apologize for that now. If you don't want to read because of that, I understand. 
> 
> Please let me know with a comment or a message if there is anything in the story that could be seen as offensive (such as slurs or shaming) so I can add a warning. I did my best to avoid anything, but I'm human and tend to slip during editing.

The first time Gavin Free met Michael Jones, he had the impression of a flaming meteor of fury.

He knew who the man was. His Crackdown 2 video on Reddit caught their attention, and when Jack investigated further, it turned out the rest of his gaming videos weren't half bad. For Achievement Hunter, a relatively new and experimental section of Rooster Teeth, they needed gamers who could handle themselves in front of a camera without taking staff away from the main office. The popularity of Michael's rage solidified Geoff's decision to work with him, and he had Jack start messaging the Jersey man. He even came down for a week from Jersey a few months prior, to record in their office and see how he liked the building, though Gavin saw neither hide nor hair of the man, as he stayed with Jack and didn't talk to many people besides Geoff.

Gavin thought he knew enough about Michael from the videos he did with them thus far, and felt no need to prod Geoff with questions about the new employee. He was funny; Gavin didn't need to know more than that.

And so, Gavin didn't realize it when Michael and Geoff collaborated to have him move down to Austin, to work for the company full time.

Gavin walked into the office one August morning, humming to himself and ready to start the latest video. But before he could go into the Achievement Hunter office, he heard, rather than saw, their latest addition in the back room, the yells reaching him through the hall. Gavin stopped, head tilted curiously, and went to investigate. He found the source of the noise a few halls down, and peered around the open door.

“Shit. Fuck. Jack!” a slightly accented voice called from beneath a desk, tangled in wires. A loud bang, and another, more pained, “Fuck!” Gavin stepped further in the room and saw a pair of legs sticking out, the rest of the body hidden in equipment. A moment later, Jack shoved his way past Gavin, murmuring a quiet, “Hey,” as he went to help.

“What's up?” Jack put his hands on his hips, casually observing the catastrophe. Gavin watched, stood near the doorway, cautious. The aggravated voice grumbled a few more swears, climbing out from beneath the desk. It took a moment before Gavin recognized Michael Jones from the numerous vlogs on his channel, red hair tussled and glasses askew. He brushed the dirt and debris from his shirt and glared accusingly at Jack, as if whatever problem he faced were his fault.

“The fuck is this shit?” he asked, pointing under the desk. “My set up at home doesn't have this much crap, I don't know where half these wires go!”

Jack bent down to look at the mess, one hand on the edge of the desk to balance as he knelt. “We're a gaming company,” he said, as he took a couple wires in hand. “We're gonna have more electronics. This stuff is just temporary, don't worry too much about it.” He started work rearranging what Michael did, unplugging and replugging, bundling similar cables together to avoid a mess.

“No shit,” Michael spat, “but there's no way all this crap is efficient.” He stopped, seeming to finally notice Gavin, head snapping up and eyes narrowing a moment. “Who're you?” Before Gavin could answer, he must have rethought the question, and said more politely, “I'm Michael.”

“Uh, Gavin,” the Brit replied. “Gavin Free.”

“Oh, yeah, the English dude.” Michael glanced at Jack again. “How goes it?”

The bigger man crawled out from beneath the desk, brushing himself the way Michael had. “It's good for now. Let me know if you need help again.” He looked at Gavin, still frozen by the door. “What's your problem?”

Gavin snapped out of his trance, hoping Michael hadn't realized he was staring. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Um.” He shot a look over his shoulder, Geoff nowhere to be found and unable to rescue him. “Nothing,” he said again, and cursed his stupidity.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “All right, well, I got work to do. You sure you're okay?” he asked Michael, gaze shifting between him and the new monitor set up.

With a wave, Michael said, “Yeah, thanks. Boss man already gave me some games to record for Rage Quit.”

Jack shrugged and turned to leave, eying Gavin warily as he did. The Brit gave him a wide smile, fake and unimpressive. He looked at Michael again, who had already forgotten him in favor of his new desk, playing with a couple wires and moving the monitor. “So.” Gavin scrambled to think of something to talk about. He was terrible with new people. “Your Rage Quit stuff. That's pretty good.”

Michael looked at him again. “It must be, or I wouldn't be hired.”

“Right,” Gavin agreed, forcing a laugh. “What're you doing?”

“Trying to get set up,” Michael said with little patience. “Look, I don't mean to be rude, but could you leave me alone? I'm kinda busy.”

Gavin swallowed hard. “Yeah, sure.” He stepped back and paused just outside the door. “See you around, I guess.” Gavin hesitated a moment, watching Michael, and went to find out where Geoff got to so he could ask about their next project. Suddenly he didn't feel as ready for work as he had when he walked in the building.

Michael definitely fit the bill of his videos, though not quite as angry. Gavin suspected some of it as an act for the camera, recalling the pure adrenaline lacing numerous spouts of swearing and growls in the short videos Michael sent them. As he thought about this, Gavin found Geoff in the lunch room putting his food away, and, surprise surprise, stashing a bottle of vodka on the top shelf. “Who's that from?”

“A fan,” Geoff said. He stood back from the shelf slowly, as though the vodka might be stolen the moment he took his eyes off it. “I heard yelling,” he continued. “Did you meet Michael?”

Gavin nodded and moved closer. “He was complaining about all the stuff we have for recording.”

“Mm.” Geoff looked at the bottle once more, and moved past Gavin to the door. “Come on, numbnuts, we got stuff to do.”

Gavin followed obediently, and turned Michael over in his head some more as he settled at his desk. Importing someone from Jersey wasn't far fetched considering Gavin came from England. But he had more specialized skills than Michael. It would be a snag for everyone if Michael didn't fit in their odd niche of a company.

His eyes flicked to the side. In the Achievement Hunter office, another desk had been shoved against the wall, presumably for Michael when he got a handle on working here. Setting permanent places for employees proved difficult when equipment constantly moved. He guessed the monitor and set up Michael had now was stolen, to be taken back after they got what Michael actually needed. Gavin pushed the thoughts from his mind, preparing the latest piece to edit. However, Michael returned to his thoughts not an hour later, when a shout rang through the walls of their tiny space.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” A crash, and another shout. “Piece of shit!”

Gavin flinched at the sound, turning to Geoff's desk with a worried look. The older man stared at the wall in the direction of the noise, listening carefully.

“Seriously? You're pulling those moves!? Augh!”

“That's probably the latest Rage Quit,” he said after a pause. “I asked Michael if he could have it up soon for our fans to see, since he's full time now.”

Gavin bit his lip. Distractions were not uncommon for the office, with frequent films that required a lot of noise or recordings that got out of hand. Gus in particular had a rough time of being quiet when he wanted to punch something because someone refused to show for a podcast or there was a big tech problem. Still, Michael's level of rage made his fingers twitch with the instinctive reaction to go help. He fought to stay at his desk and work calmly while the yelling and occasional smashing sounds continued.

After some time, they stopped. Gavin had unconsciously held his breath, releasing it in a loud puff when he was assured the shouting was done. Gavin slung an arm over the back of his chair and looked at Geoff again. “He just moved here, right?”

“No, he's been here for months and just got to the office,” Geoff said sarcastically. “Yes, he just moved here. He's in the other office while we get his desk set in here.”

“Where's he living?” Gavin recalled the first time he came to the States for an extended period, how Geoff and Griffon shared their home with him. Not that they wouldn't do it again if need be, but there was no room for another permanent guest, and he heard no talk of Michael coming to their house.

“With Jack, for now.” Geoff kept his eyes on his computer, working and talking simultaneously.

Gavin considered this as he went back to his own tasks. As another gamer, Michael would probably be collaborating with the rest of the Achievement Hunter team as they properly assembled themselves. It made sense to live with Jack, a good man with a nice home. Gavin wondered if Michael felt as out of place as Gavin did when he first arrived. Maybe he could help the man feel more accepted.

“I'd leave him alone today,” Geoff said, as though reading Gavin's thoughts. “He's probably stressed about moving.”  
Gavin grunted agreement. Listening to Geoff proved smart on more than one occasion.

Jack came into the room a bit later, filling the cramped space with his bulk. Gavin used his time editing and finishing mindless assignments. His mind crept to Michael a couple more times, and he shut those thoughts down quickly, questioning himself about it. It was Michael's first day, they would have plenty of time to get friendly, wouldn't they? But he had to get along with him, Gavin was sure, if they had to be coworkers. Better to establish a relationship sooner than later.

Lunch time came, and with that, a not so sneaky plan from Gavin. When Geoff got up and stretched, he rolled his chair away from his desk. “So, Geoff,” Gavin said, biting his lip. “Are we going to invite Michael to lunch?”

The older man eyed him suspiciously. “I figured I wouldn't pester him.” Geoff stroked his beard, considering Gavin a moment. “I'm surprised you're so eager to hang out with him.”

“Well, I ought to know all the blokes in our department,” Gavin said with a shrug. Geoff stared another moment, and left the room to get the lunch he prepared for himself the night before. Gavin followed Geoff out the room, making a mental list of the tasks that needed completing after he ate.

The sandwich Gavin had for lunch sat comfortably in his stomach, and made the rest of his work day feel easier. They heard more shouts from the room Michael set himself in for the day, presumably another Rage Quit. According to Geoff, it would be once or twice a week, with Michael filling the rest of his time doing menial work. Geoff also had a commentary idea rolling around his brain, undeveloped as of yet, that he wanted to try with Michael. The play throughs he did on his personal YouTube had good material, and Geoff intended to make use of Michael's experience in front of cameras.

Gavin leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms, and sighed with relief at the end of the day. Geoff did the same, cricking the sore muscles in his neck. “Let's get the hell out of here,” he said, groaning and rubbing his shoulder with a strong hand. Gavin bounced up to meet him and waved goodbye to Jack. On the way out, he glanced at the hall to the back room, wondering if he should say something to Michael. Geoff urged him to leave, though, and Gavin decided it would be best not to.

Griffon, rather than being outside working on a hot August day, sat in the living room with Millie, iced tea in each of their hands. “Geoff!” she said when they walked through the door, rushing to his side. “You'll never guess what I saw on the news.”

“Yeah, what?” Geoff kissed her lazily and wandered into the living room, all smiles and hugs as Millie ran up and tackled him. “Hey, baby girl,” he said into her hair. She giggled and jumped back to the couch the moment he set her down.

“There's some weird animal loose, they think from the zoo.” Griffon settled beside her daughter on the couch. Geoff followed and sat on Millie's other side. Gavin settled himself at the edge of the couch by Griffon, leaning against the leather arm.

Griffon grabbed the remote and flipped to the local news. The current story was about a robbery downtown. “It was on earlier,” she explained. “Somebody saw this big orange bird flying around.”

“Mm.” Geoff nodded to show he was listening.

“They said it was a peacock,” Millie chimed in. “But peacocks aren't orange!”

“No, they're not,” Geoff agreed, and ruffled her hair. Millie giggled again and swatted his hand. “Someone probably just had too many 'drinks' and got confused.” Simple language, to avoid foul implications of drunkenness around his daughter.

Griffon snorted, unconvinced. “Either way, be on the lookout, okay?” Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “If that peacock is as big as they were saying, I want a picture of it.” The wheels turning in her mind were practically visible as she imagined the sculptures she could make from the sighting of a reportedly impressive animal.

“When's dinner?” Gavin complained. All this talk of birds only made him hungry.

Geoff laughed and got up from the couch. “Fine, I'll make us something. Maybe roasted peacock,” he joked.

“Daddy!” Millie whined, with wide, horrified eyes. “Peacocks are pretty, we can't eat them!”

Geoff ruffled her hair again. “All right, all right. I'll see if we have some beef in the freezer.”

The steaks Geoff eventually made tasted heavenly. Gavin savored each bite, the herbs and sauce dancing on his taste buds. When he finished the meat, he was so full, he could barely stand to eat his steamed vegetables and garlic bread, but any food by Geoffrey Ramsey tasted delicious, and Gavin managed to find the room for a few bites of each. He sat back and pat his belly contentedly when he could consume no more.

“Right, well, I'm off to bed.” Gavin stood slowly, stomach twinging with a too full feeling, and picked up his plates.

“Already?” Geoff raised an eyebrow as he shoved his empty plate to Gavin. The Brit made a face and took the dish obediently. The Ramseys liked to make him help around the house, and Gavin liked to pretend it bothered him.

“Yeah,” he said, going to the kitchen and piling the dishes in the sink. “I'm pretty tired,” he called across rooms. It was unusual for Gavin, because he enjoyed staying up with Geoff to play stress free games they didn't bother with at the office. Still, his lids felt heavy, and Gavin knew tonight wasn't the night for bevs and Xbox.

“Suite yourself.” Geoff stood to help Millie from her chair and pull her into his arms. She slid into a nap almost immediately, as tired as Gavin. Geoff left to put her to bed. Griffon cleaned up the remaining plates.

“You okay, sweetie?” Griffon brushed Gavin's hair back idly with one hand while the other set the dishes on the kitchen counter for washing.

“Yeah, fine. Tired,” Gavin said again, pushing her hand away. “Night.”

“Goodnight.” Griffon watched him trundle off down the hall to his room, collapsing on the sheets and kicking off his clothes. He didn't bother with blankets; Austin in the summer mandated sleeping naked without covers. Gavin left his boxers, lest someone should walk in on him and tucked himself into a pillow.

Michael drifted to his mind again, the memories of today flitting about his unoccupied brain space. Gavin grunted, annoyed. He would have plenty of time to get to know him, he told himself. Knowing the way Rooster Teeth worked, where even the employees who didn't work together were good friends, Gavin had no doubt he and Michael would get close quickly. He breathed deep to focus on his own body, and hot air filled his lungs. Gavin thought of opening the window, but fell asleep before he could muster the energy to do so.

* * *

The next day felt like many others. Gavin woke with a groan and struggled to get into his clothes, not bothering with the mirror in the bathroom as he showered and made himself presentable. His dark blond hair stuck out every which way, and the Brit made a few attempts to flatten it with his hand while he made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. Geoff had bacon searing and a plate of cooked eggs ready. Griffon left with Millie for school early. Geoff slid food onto a plate for Gavin and set it on the small kitchen table. When Gavin requested coffee, Geoff rolled his eyes and told him to get it himself.

They arrived at work just after nine. Geoff settled in his seat and Gavin started to do the same, when he heard a sound of pained anguish from the nearby office. He recognized it as Jack, and turned his head to the door with a raised eyebrow. Geoff barely paid attention, eyes on his computer. The door opened a moment later, Jack shaking his head as he sat down. “Well, that sucks,” he lamented.

“What?” Gavin spun the chair to face him.

“Michael smashed an Xbox,” Jack shrugged. Geoff whirled around to look at him. “It still works,” Jack assured with, waving a hand in a settle down motion, “but man. I didn't think he'd damage property on the first day.”

Assured they wouldn't need to replace a console, Geoff snorted. “Really?”

“Smashed?” Gavin asked. The shouting was bad, but not that bad, was it?

“Ah, well, when I say smashed, it's more like hit.” Jack moved his hand in a vague punching motion. “He punched the casing.” Jack paused, one finger tapping his knee. “I thought I saw burn marks on the casing, too. Maybe the wires are frayed. We might have to replace it after all.”

“It's not my fault that game sucks dicks.”

Gavin jolted, and turned to the doorway, where Michael stood with arms crossed. He had a heavy zip down sweater on despite the warm weather, staring Jack down. “Sorry about the console.” His eyes flicked to Geoff. “Am I in trouble or what?”

Geoff shoved away from his desk to look at him. “Nah. If it stops working, we got some extras laying around. And you're getting paid to be mad.” He smiled as he said it, amused. “Be sure not to do it again and we're cool.”

“All right. Anything else?”

“From me?” Geoff had already gone back to his work. “I gave you the schedule, so no. I'll email with files if I need you to edit shit.”

Michael uncrossed his arms and gave a mock salute. “Aye aye, boss.” He turned to leave, gaze passing over Gavin as he did. The Brit looked away quickly, not realizing he'd been staring at the freckles peppering his nose and cheeks. Michael paused on his way out. Gavin hunched into himself at his desk and stayed in that position until he left, exhaling heavily.

“What's the matter, Gavin?” Jack teased. “You got a boy crush?”

Gavin did not dignify that with a response, though he thought the glare towards Jack well deserved. He returned to work calmly, unable to stop a part of his brain imagining just what Michael looked like punching an Xbox. Geoff threw controllers plenty, and occasionally kicked the console, but a punch was quite different and, Gavin thought, required quite a bit of anger to pull off. He thought of the Rage Quits Michael did for them in the past year that he watched, how genuine it seemed. Maybe he didn't give Michael's level of anger enough credit.

“When's Michael moving in here?” Gavin asked, when he felt a lull in office activity.

“Whenever the hell we have the time to get shit sorted out.” Geoff flicked hastily at his controller, focused on his current game.

That could be weeks away depending on the priority of getting the new desk set up. Michael was next to him, because Jack and Geoff took up the left wall. Gavin wondered how it would be to deal with Rage Quit right by his ears, judging by how loud it sounded through the walls.

Some time later, Matt peeked his head in the room, grinning. Gavin looked up curiously. Jack turned after a moment, and Geoff didn't bother. “Cookies in the kitchen,” Matt announced. “Kara brought them to welcome Michael. You guys better snatch some before the animating team takes 'em all.”

Gavin was up in a minute, because who could resist sweets? He waved in thanks to Matt, who went back to his office, and wound his way through the hall to the kitchen. Gavin stopped short in the doorway.

Michael leaned on the counter with a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth. He spotted Gavin and quirked an eyebrow, before he lost interest and returned attention to the treat in his hand. Michael chewed slowly, not looking at Gavin.

The Brit swallowed, and moved to take a couple cookies from the box, one for himself and one for Geoff, who would say he didn't want one and then eat it ten minutes later. “Hi,” he said, and regretted it when Michael looked at him as though it took time and effort out of his own snack. God, he hated getting to know people. Gavin would much rather be friends with everyone then go through the awkward process of small chat until they were close enough not to bother.

“Hey.” Michael finished his cookie, shoving off from the counter and passing Gavin.

“How's the, uh, the move?” Gavin turned to look at him, gaze stuck on the back of Michael's head until he turned in kind and met his eyes.

“Annoying,” he said, deadpan. “You ever try moving across the country?”

Gavin smiled. “I'm British, mate. I moved across the ocean.”

Michael frowned, as though irritated by being proven wrong. “Then you know how much it sucks,” he said after a minute. He turned and left the kitchen quickly, cutting of any continued conversation.

So much for being friendly. Gavin puffed out a little sigh, and bit into his cookie. He made his way back tot he Achievement Hunter room and tossed Geoff's cookie on the desk. “Hey, asshole!” Geoff swiped the surface of his desk. “You're getting crumbs everywhere!”

“Where's my cookie?” Jack asked sullenly. Gavin ignored him, finishing his treat and getting back to work.

Americans were never so rude to him before. They usually delighted in the fact he was British, asking him ridiculous questions. Even when they didn't, they smiled and answered his questions and shook his hand because being polite was good for appearances and appearances meant everything to Americans. He'd never been shrugged off like that.

Pondering Michael's attitude did nothing for him, and Gavin pushed the thought away as he had the day before. Geoff was probably right, moving stressed people out, and Michael might warm up after he had a chance to adjust. Still. That look bothered him, the expression Michael gave as if just talking to him took up valuable time.

Unfortunately for Gavin, the rest of the week proved much the same. He came in to the office and bantered with Jack and Geoff, but Michael stayed in the back room and didn't engage them except to ask Geoff what work needed to be done. Each time Gavin tried to start a conversation, Michael offered the simplest answers and left before they could get any deeper. By the time Friday morning rolled around, Gavin was fed up with trying to befriend such a downer of a person.

Friday also happened to be the day Geoff wanted to set Michael's desk up to work with the rest of the Achievement Hunters.

“It's been a week, he can obviously handle the work,” Geoff said, after Gavin asked whether he thought setting a permanent place for Michael was the right thing to do. “What are you so worried about?”

Gavin had no answer, opening and closing his mouth silently. “It's just--” He stopped, and sighed. “Michael's so sour.”

“That's not surprising.” Jack leaned back in his chair. “He's been curt with me all week. Give him some time.”

“Besides, sooner is better than later,” Geoff said, with a tone of finality. “Jack, you wanna help me move the monitor and stuff in here?”

Michael vanished somewhere unknown when Jack and Geoff came for his stuff. Gavin stayed at his desk to edit. The door slammed against the wall as Geoff carried the Mac in and set it down. Jack followed with wires and computer hub in hand. Gavin's eyes went to their activity a couple times.

“Done yet?”

Michael's head popped in, eyebrow raised curiously.

“Not quite,” Geoff said. He shoved a few wires behind the desk, and Jack switched on the power for the monitor. The screen lit up, displayed 'No Signal,' and went idle. Geoff bent below the desk with Jack to check the hub. Michael stayed near the door.

Gavin glanced at him. “Excited?”

Michael turned to him with the same blank expression he gave Gavin all week. “To work in this room?” he asked, as though it were a foreign concept. “Not really.”

“Excuse me, Achievement Hunter is the action capital of this building,” Jack said with mock indignation. “Don't knock it.”

Michael shrugged. Gavin sighed internally and turned to his editing before he was further reminded of why he didn't want to be friends with the redhead anymore.

When the set up was completed and Geoff brushed his hands together with a happy sigh, Michael sat at the new desk and started the machine. He pulled out a USB drive and plugged it in, moving files onto the computer. Gavin peeked at him from the corner of his vision and, despite himself, asked, “So when's the next Rage Quit recording?”

Michael didn't look away from the screen. “When the next video's due.”

“Yeah, but how far ahead do you record?” Gavin knew the schedule well, and that Rage Quit typically came out Thursdays, but publishing and recording times varied.

“When I fucking feel like it,” Michael spat, shooting him a glare. It was an insult, and should have bit Gavin harshly, but his mind only seemed to register that it was the first time he saw Michael show any emotion towards him after his initial frustrations on Monday.

“All right, all right,” he said, to calm the older man, holding his hands up innocently. “I was just curious, Michael, no need to get twisted up about it.”

“Then next time don't ask a dumb fucking question,” he practically snarled. Jack didn't kid about Michael's attitude. Gavin smirked at him, accepting the silent challenge. Michael narrowed his eyes, and refocused his attention on the computer.

Jack, who watched the exchange with rapt attention, spun his chair to their side of the room and made a cat noise, his hand curled to mimic a paw. Gavin stuck out his tongue in response. A cat fight suited him better than nothing; at least Michael stopped ignoring him, which Gavin hated more than being yelled at.

A while later, Jack instigated another interaction, breaking the silence induced by work. “Anything going on this weekend, Geoff?”

“Yeah, Griffon wants to throw a small party.” Geoff ran a hand through his hair. “Which of course means about a hundred people invading my house.”

“Cool, I'll be there.” Jack looked at Michael. “You wanna go to that?”

It took a moment for Michael to register he was being talked to. He removed his headphones and looked at Jack over the back of his chair. “What now?”

“Geoff's having a party. Wanna go?” Jack repeated.

“No,” Michael said without consideration. “I'll stay home and trash the place while you're gone.”

Gavin snorted, prompting a look from Michael halfway between a frown and a smirk.

Jack shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“You sure about not coming, Michael?” Gavin smiled at him. The more people he could start shenanigans with, the better.

The temporary amusement at his joke had faded, however. Michael's lips turned to a thin line. “Yeah, I'm sure,” he said.

Gavin pursed his lips, nostrils flared. Whatever the redhead's reason for ignoring him, it better be a damn good one. Gavin wouldn't stand for working with that around the clock.

* * *

As Geoff predicted, twenty guests became forty, which quickly became eighty and struggled to fit in his house. Griffon ran back and forth refilling coolers and ensuring no own drowned in their pool. Millie slept soundly with a CD on repeat in her bedroom to block the noise. Geoff greeted guests, a half full bottle of beer a constant in his hands. Gavin wandered among the crowd, drunken haze just setting in, when he noticed an oddity.

Jack came as promised. He shook hands and slapped backs, a beer with him in seconds. Behind him, a shock of dark red curls peeked out from beneath a beanie, glasses shining in the soft porch light. Gavin grinned and pushed through the bodies to meet them.

“Jack, Michael,” he said, beaming.

“Hey, Gavin.” Jack shook his hand briefly and took a sip of beer. “You look drunk,” he said after a moment.

“Wouldn't be shocked by it,” Gavin said with a laugh, pulling from his drink. He veered toward Michael and nearly stumbled before righting himself. Ignoring the questioning look, he said, “I thought you weren't coming, little boy.”

The look turned more pronounced at the term of endearment. “Jack forced me here.”

“Ah, come on.” Jack had produced a second beer, handing it to Michael. “You can't stay locked in my house forever. Meet some people, mingle.”

Michael took the drink and swallowed a quarter of it in one go. “Sure,” he said, sounding annoyed and unwilling to take Jack's advice. His temporary roommate vanished instantly in the throng of people, leaving Michael with Gavin, who thought of nothing outside the pleasant buzz in his brain.

“Want to swim?” Gavin said after a minute. “The pool's great, 'specially when it's this hot.”

“I'm good, thanks.” Michael took another swig.

Gavin might have taken that answer about three beers ago. As it was, he gave Michael another stupid grin. “Come on, Michael. I have spare trunks if you need 'em.”

“I said no thanks.” Michael glanced around for a way out, but the bodies squashed tightly around them and provided little escape without excessive force. Michael had no particular desire to fight his way out, and settled for another drink.

“Do you not like swimming?” Gavin's accent twisted his words, and Michael crinkled his brow while he took a second to figure out what he asked.

“No,” he said with extra force. “I just don't want to swim tonight, fucktard.”

The blaring music hummed in Gavin's mind. He blinked slowly as he stared at Michael. “You're boring,” he said, so long after Michael spoke that the redhead had stopped paying attention to him.

When he caught the comment, Michael glared again. “I've got more excitement in my hand than you do in that whole gangly looking body, dipshit.” He tried to drink from his beer again, only to swallow air. Michael looked around for the nearest place to dump the bottle. He spotted Griffon taking empty beers from people, recognizing her immediately, despite not seeing her since his first visit to Austin, by the wild tattoos and septum piercing. “See you,” he said to Gavin, and hurried through the crowd.

Gavin stood a moment. When Michael disappeared, he left the Brit's mind as well, and Gavin quickly sought out someone else to bother. He spotted Geoff with Joel and Burnie, and made his way over. “Hey, lads,” he said, waving his drink.

“Hey, Gavin,” Burnie said. Joel gave him a small wave.

“Where's Jack?” Geoff, as usual, knew best what Gavin was up to. “I saw you talking to him a little while ago.”

“No idea.” Gavin lifted and dropped his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “Michael's here, though, did'you know?”

“Yeah, I saw him too, glaring his ass off at you.” Geoff rolled his eyes. “You could leave him alone.”

Gavin squawked. “I did nothing to him. He hates me for . . . no reason.” He paused between words to lick his lips, which suddenly felt very dry. “'M only showing him hospitality, Geoff.”

“Sure, sure.” Geoff sipped his beer. “Let me know if Jack shows his face again. And eat something, stupid, before you fall off your rocker.”

“Will do.” Gavin drank the last of his beer, and left Geoff to seek out the nearest cooler.

Griffon spotted him in the midst of attending to the trash scattered about, and dragged him inside. Gavin waited patiently in the kitchen while she fetched him a bowl of chips with sauce on the side. “Eat these and take a break,” she told him, relieving the beer bottle from his hands.

If there was one thing Gavin didn't do while drunk, it was disobey Griffon. He stayed in the kitchen after she left and munched quietly on his food, the alcohol still buzzing through his brain. When he finished, he tossed the plate in the sink and turned to rejoin the party.

He collided with a stiff body, letting out an 'oof!', and tumbled backward a couple steps. Gavin looked up to see the one and only grouchy Michael Jones, who glared at him yet again. “Walk much, moron?”

“Michael,” Gavin cooed, straightening. “How're you enjoyin' the party?”

“Fine.” Michael pushed past him to dig in the fridge.

Gavin put his head against the wall, his body leaning at an angle. “What are you doing?”

Michael arose with a fresh cold beer in hand. “Geoff asked me to get this for him. Something about it not being for guests.” He shrugged indifferently. “Bye.”

“Wait, Michael!” Gavin shoved off the wall to grab at his shoulder, missing by a mile. Michael stopped all the same and waited for him to speak. Gavin took a moment to collect his thoughts, and licked his lips again. “How come you're such a minge?”

Michael frowned. “What the hell's a minge?”

Gavin snorted, because somehow that was funny. “You know, a pleb.” When Michael didn't register that either, he tried again. “Sourpuss.”

That worked, Michael's frown straightening as the confusion cleared. “None of your business,” he spat. “I'm here for my job, not to be chummy.”

Gavin made a noise akin to a whimper and stepped closer to Michael. The redhead drew back automatically. “Michael,” he cooed.

“The beer's getting cold,” Michael hurried to say before Gavin could speak further. “Look, Gavin, I'm sure you're the best British dude in the office, but I'm really not interested in palling around with anyone.” He ducked out the doorway quickly and rushed from the house. Gavin breathed heavy through clenched teeth.

Outside, the crowd had thinned as the night wore on. Griffon escorted guests to their cars. Geoff saw Gavin and waved him over to where he stood with Burnie. Joel evidently vanished. “Thank fuck you're not still drinking,” Geoff said when Gavin met them. “Michael looked about three times as pissed as when he got here. What the hell did you say to him?”

Gavin hummed as he thought, the entire night blending into a mess. “Only asked why he's so mean. No big deal.”

“Oh, my God,” Geoff groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Please, please, don't bother Michael anymore. Rage Quit is popular, and I'm going to punch you in the dick if he quits because your dumb ass doesn't know when to drop something.”

Burnie chuckled beside him, glad not to have Gavin on his team to deal with any longer.

Gavin clucked his tongue, thinking as deep as he could at that time. “'S not my fault,” he finally mumbled, but Geoff had ceased to pay attention to him. He moved to help Griffon get a few people past their fence and call a cab for them if they couldn't walk home. Burnie clapped a hand on Gavin's shoulder.

“New guy'll warm up to you,” he assured. “Give it time.”

“That's wha' everybody says.” Gavin breathed deep again, the haze clearing a bit as the alcohol worked its way out and the food worked its way in.

“Eh, it's hard for him, to move that far from home. You'd know about that.” Burnie pat him a couple times. “See you, buddy. I gotta go home.”

After the party emptied, Gavin helped as best he could with clean up. The third time he dropped a pile of beer bottles and one smashed near his foot, Griffon shooed him out of the yard to give Geoff a hand in the kitchen. Putting away food proved much easier and less dangerous. They finished soon, and Geoff insisted Gavin go to bed, he could finish any other clean up in the morning. Gavin walked to his room, splayed on his blankets and fell asleep in seconds.

* * *

The long weekend treated Gavin well, save for the first morning when he remembered his drunk activities and spent a half hour loathing himself. Michael would never talk to him again. Despite the setback, though, Gavin had slept off his mild hangover, and distracted himself by picking up the last of the trash in the yard. Griffon locked herself in the shed to get work done, and Gavin occupied himself with Geoff and video games when he finished cleaning. Soon the incidents with Michael were forgotten in the fray of screaming and pressing buttons with frantic energy.

Sunday they went out to lunch. Chili's was packed, and the family had to wait thirty minutes before being squeezed in one of the booths. Millie picked up her menu and traced her hands over the brightly colored pictures of food, murmuring to herself about what she would get. Griffon sat beside her, Geoff across from her and Gavin facing Millie. Several televisions played the local news and sports channels, though there was no hope of hearing them over the din.

Several minutes after the waitress took their drink orders, Griffon gasped. Geoff didn't flinch. Gavin and Millie both looked up to see what had her so surprised. “Look, look at the TV,” she said, pointing to the screen behind them. Gavin turned around, leaning right to avoid blocking Millie's view.

A blurry video played, with a news banner underneath reading, 'Mysterious Bird Sighting.'

“Oh, not the bloody peacock again,” Gavin groaned.

“Did they see it? Did they see it somewhere?” Millie jumped up to her knees with her hands firmly planted on the table, leaning forward to see better.

“I wanna know what's up with this thing!” Griffon said, poking Gavin's arm. Geoff glanced up from the menu and looked as well.

The poor quality video was obviously submitted by a viewer. Gavin squinted at the screen, barley able to make out a street and several lampposts. The camera swerved up to the sky and showed nothing but darkness and stars. It moved again, back to the street, higher than before, pointed toward the rooftops. Just as Gavin decided to go back to his menu, something flashed in the view. The camera zoomed a bit, and a blurry shape passed over one of the trees in someone's yard. By sheer darkness it would be impossible to tell what color the thing was, it flashed away in an instant, but the news channel helpfully paused and zoomed further on a freeze frame of the creature.

Whatever it was, it didn't look dark blue the way a peacock should. It looked brown, maybe dark red. The video was still too poor to tell. Gavin gave up and turned back to his seat. “Animal control better get that thing.”

“It looks big,” Griffon said, and settled back in her seat to pick up her menu. “They weren't kidding about the size.”

“I just hope it doesn't get rabies.” Geoff frowned at his hands, crossed in front of him. “We don't need anymore sick animals in this town.”

“Maybe we can see it at the zoo when they catch it,” Millie offered hopefully. Geoff smiled gently at her and ran a hand over her head.

Griffon made a note to herself out loud to watch the news for more information. Besides being interested in what the beast looked like, she wanted to know if it was captured safely. Gavin couldn't blame her; the pet chicken fiasco they attempted some months ago turned birds into an incredible soft spot for the Ramseys.

The rest of Sunday, Gavin relaxed. Geoff had a couple pitches for series he talked over with him during the week. Achievement Hunter would slowly expand, and with that meant plenty of trial and error videos that might never get popular. With Monday looming and the plans in place, Gavin wanted a chance to chill out at home before the chaos began.

Griffon played with Millie outside, flitting to the living room every couple of hours to check on the peacock story. “I'm concerned,” she said defensively when Gavin raised an eyebrow from his spot on the couch. “They might kill it if they think it's dangerous,” she added in a whisper. “I don't want Millie knowing if they do.”

The day wound into evening with a nice dinner cooked by Geoff and a family movie. Gavin thumped into bed early, wondering how work would be in the morning. Tense, if Michael kept a grudge about the party. Gavin sighed at his own behavior. At least his drunk self hadn't asked Michael to wrestle.

* * *

By the second week, Gavin thought Michael might be better adjusted to life in Texas. Not wholly, of course, but the sour attitude might curb a bit. That proved completely wrong when Gavin said, “Hi, Michael,” Monday morning, after the usual company meeting held at the beginning of each week, and the Jersey man didn't so much as look at him.

At least he didn't glare, Gavin thought, sitting at his desk. Geoff watched him warily for a moment. When Gavin met his gaze, Geoff jutted his chin toward Michael and shook his head. Leave him alone, he meant. Gavin turned to Michael immediately and practically felt the groan that wanted to escape Geoff.

“Um.” He gulped as he recalled his actions Friday night. “Michael?”

“What?” He kept his eyes off Gavin.

“I'm sorry for the party.” Gavin swiveled lightly in his chair, toes tapping the carpet. “Didn't mean to call you a minge.”

Michael sighed and shoved his keyboard away. He looked at Gavin steadily, light flashing off his glasses. “Thanks to your genius explanation, I still have no idea what the fuck a minge is,” he said. “So I guess you get off the hook for that.”

Gavin's heart fluttered and he grinned. “Really?”

Michael rolled his eyes and turned to his computer. “Yeah. Now I got work to do.”

Gavin couldn't help his giggle. “Okay, Michael.”

Geoff put his face in his hands, loathing the day he hired either of the idiots. “Thank fuck I have you, Jack,” he muttered.

“I know,” Jack said sympathetically.

To Gavin's chagrin, the small exchange changed little between himself and Michael. He stood at twelve thirty and asked him to lunch with Geoff, but Michael shook his head, not moving from his chair. “Too much to do.”

The Brit couldn't believe there was so much work Michael had to miss a meal. He didn't press, though, and left with Geoff for the nearest burger joint.

It continued that way for the rest of the week. Brightened by the lack of a surly mood, Gavin tried again and again to be friendly. Michael answered his questions and said little else, eyes glued to the monitor and keyboard or controller constantly in hand. Geoff lectured him on leaving Michael alone until he had better footing in Austin. Gavin dismissed the advice.

He had enough of it by Wednesday. “Michael, come out with us,” he crooned.

“Nah, lunch in the fridge,” he said.

“Michael,” Gavin whined. His coworker frowned at the noise and shot him a look, less malice in it than during the first week. “You're always in the office,” he continued. “It's like you don't know how to have any bloody fun.”

“I went to lunch with Jack yesterday,” Michael said pointedly. “And today I want to record Rage Quit while everyone's gone, because the yelling is fucking loud and Geoff'll have my head if people start complaining about it. So shut the fuck up about me not coming to lunch with you like some lovesick puppy.”

Gavin opened his mouth to argue. Nothing came out. Michael had a point; the first time he recorded in the office, Gavin had a hard time concentrating. It made sense to record while most of the office went out to eat, or at least ate their lunch in the break room. He stuck his lower lip out in a small pout. “Fine, then.”

Michael sighed in relief.

Gavin stopped bothering Michael about meals after that. He settled instead for pestering him during work, despite the looks Geoff gave him on multiple occasions.

“What are you working on, Michael?”

“Editing, Gavin.”

“What video?”

“What else, fucking Rage Quit. Leave me alone.”

“What game?”

Michael stopped to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Gavin snickered.

On Friday he went for the personal questions. “How do you like life in Austin so far?”

Michael shrugged. “Fine. It's hot. Sunny.”

Gavin bounced in his chair. “Is New Jersey cold?”

“Yes,” Michael said, barely biting back an insult. “Gavin, I'm working.”

“But I want to know more about you, my little Michael.”

The name made him frown the way it had the night of the party. “You call me that again and I'm breaking your neck,” he threatened.

Gavin laughed. “Sure you would, little boy.”

It was that moment Gavin found out Michael's bite was worse than his bark. He glared, and shoved away from his desk. The movement was so fast, Gavin barely had time to scream before Michael yanked him out of his chair and put his arms around his neck.

“Michael! Michael!” he squawked, pulling at the arms around his neck. He struggled in earnest and Michael tightened his grip.

“That's right, dipshit, my name is Michael,” he growled.

Gavin squawked again. Michael's arms put off so much heat, he felt like sweating. Human furnace, he thought, clawing at his hands. “I'm sorry, Michael,” he pleaded. “Please!”

The redhead released him, brushing his hands on his shirt. “Learn your fucking lesson.” He sat in his chair and picked up his mouse, like he hadn't nearly choked Gavin, who looked desperately at Geoff for some kind of reprimand.

He merely shrugged. “You asked for it.”

Gavin moaned in despair and took his seat again. “Not fair,” he whined. No one in the office showed him sympathy. Gavin huffed as he went back to work.

The show of physical strength didn't deter him. If anything, it got Gavin more curious about their Northeastern coworker. He swore a lot, but that was the first time Gavin saw him truly angry outside of frustrating games. Not an hour later he bothered him again without thinking about it.

“Any plans for the weekend, Michael?”

“Yes,” he said, so fast Gavin raised an eyebrow. “I'm looking for an apartment, so don't think I'm going to another dumb party.”

Damn, Gavin thought. He wanted to ask Michael over for a game night. “Good luck with that,” he said instead.

“Thanks.” Michael let out a long breath through his nose. “I'll need it.”

That evening, Geoff lectured Gavin again. “I don't know why you insist on doing that,” he said when they got home that night.

“What?” Gavin asked innocently. “I didn't do anything.”

Geoff smacked the back of his head. “Michael's gonna murder you, if he doesn't quit first.”

“Ah, come off it.” Gavin rubbed the sore spot. “He's getting better.”

Geoff smacked him again, with less force, and left for the kitchen, Gavin following idly and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. Griffon came in from outside smelling like paint and glue, and kissed her husband. Geoff blanched at the scent. “You like it,” Griffon teased at his expression. “Hey, I heard more about that peacock.”

“Oh, not that dumb thing.” Geoff scouted the fridge until he found the beer he wanted. “When are you gonna drop that?”

“When it's safely caught and put in an animal sanctuary,” she shot back. “Someone else said they saw it. It was near the office, actually.”

That caught both Geoff and Gavin's attention. “You think the thing would want to be in the wild,” Gavin said, “not in a city.”

“Maybe it's scared.” Griffon clucked her tongue. “Poor thing. Anyway, keep an eye out.”

“Sure, sure.” Geoff drew her in for another kiss. “So where's Millie?”

Gavin didn't hear the answer as he ambled out of the room, munching his apple. He couldn't care less about the bird, but maybe it would be a conversation starter. Did Michael like animals? Gavin had no idea and intended to find out.

Around this time, Gavin realized his pursuit of Michael might not be entirely innocent.

* * *

The teasing soon became an easy rhythm for the two men.

Gavin tried to gauge how Michael would be during the Monday meeting. But he sat on the far side of the room and avoided looking at him, focused on Geoff and Burnie talking about new employees and expansion. Gavin wondered if Michael was pissed, but he only nodded a hello as per usual, without a hint of anger, when they got to the Achievement Hunter office and sat down. Gavin set to getting a better reaction.

The minute Michael left for the bathroom, Gavin nabbed his mouse, glancing behind him to ensure Jack and Geoff weren't looking. It was an old one, easy to dismantle. He deftly removed the back panel and took the plastic ball allowing the mouse to sense movement against the desk. He reset the panel and put it back seconds before Michael reentered the room and sat down.

The realization was immediate, Michael shaking the mouse on its pad when the arrow refused to move. Gavin held back his laugh and rolled the mouse ball in his hand beneath the desk, quietly working the keyboard with his other hand. He could see Michael frown from the corner of his eye and check the wire connecting his mouse to the computer. When it proved unbroken, Michael waved his mouse again, and said, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Why, what's wrong?” Geoff peeked over his shoulder.

“My fucking mouse decided to crap out on me.” Michael clicked a couple times. The computer responded appropriately. “What the shit?” Michael yelled. “The clicking works! Why won't it move?”

Gavin could no longer hold it, bursting into a fit of giggles. He held his sides, shoulders heaving. Michael's head flashed to him so fast Gavin thought his neck might hurt. The fire in the redhead's eyes could burn holes in Gavin's head. “Gavin,” he said, more level and calm than the Brit thought he should be, “did you mess with my mouse?”

He bit his lip. It was not much use hiding after his laughing fit. “Maybe,” he hedged.

Just like Friday, the move was so fast Gavin barely registered it until it happened. Michael roared, leaping up. He grabbed the back of Gavin's chair and yanked. The force of gravity did the rest of the work.

Gavin flailed and yelped. He hit the floor hard on his back, sliding backwards from the tipped chair. The ball from the mouse flew from his hand and landed on the floor. Michael saw it. He stepped carefully over Gavin, retrieved it, and returned to his desk to fix the mouse. “You're a piece of shit,” he spat. “Don't touch my stuff.”

Gavin gasped on the floor. He had prepared himself for another physical assault, not an upheaval.

Geoff groaned at his desk and put a hand to his face. “Get up, stupid,” he ordered Gavin. Jack did nothing but chuckle.

Michael refused to speak to Gavin the rest of the morning, and he thought maybe he did blow it for real this time. However, that proved wrong at lunch time. Michael had his own food, as he was wont to do rather than go out with them. Gavin opted to stay despite not having anything with him. He could snag something from the kitchen, he figured. He wanted to apologize to Michael without anyone else in the room.

When Jack and Geoff left, Gavin turned to the redhead. “Michael?”

The man sighed, and looked at him without moving. “Yeah?”

“I'm sorry about this morning.” Gavin tapped his fingers together. “That was a bit uncalled for.”

Michael stared at him a moment, considering. “Well.” He paused. “Burnie warned me about dumb pranks and shit when I signed the contract. I don't really care, either, as long as you aren't a total prick about it.”

Gavin smiled. “So, are we good?”

“I guess.” Michael looked back at his work. “Do you actually have lunch?” he asked after a minute.

The Brit gave him a sheepish grin. “No. I just wanted to apologize while we were alone.”

Michael let out another sigh. Gavin raised an eyebrow, confused. “Wait here,” Michael told him, and stood. He left the room, Gavin wondering what he was doing.

Michael returned a few minutes later with a bag. The grease at the bottom told Gavin it had food in it. His stomach rumbled, and Gavin slapped his hand over it to quiet the noise. Michael snorted at the action as he sat. “Here,” he said, rummaging in the bag. He produced half a burger on a napkin, and set it on Gavin's desk. “Eat it, and if you whine, I'll take it back.”

Gavin looked at the burger, and at Michael. The first thing that came to mind was a complaint about the onions he saw hanging off the side, but he thought better of it, and instead said, “Thanks, Michael.”

“Yeah.” Michael took out his own burger half, leaning away from the desk while he ate.

He made no mention of the kind act upon Geoff and Jack's return. “What'd you eat?” Geoff asked, knowing Gavin brought nothing with him and hoping he hadn't done anything else to aggravate Michael.

“Some stuff from the kitchen,” he supplied. “Think I'll have a big dinner to make up for it.”

Geoff mumbled something unintelligible. Gavin didn't bother himself with it, shooting a grin at Michael. The redhead paused a long moment, and returned the grin just slightly. Gavin marked that as a victory in his book.

Because Michael refrained from killing him over the mouse prank, Gavin felt he might be able to get away with more, though he stayed within one or two annoyances per day to avoid enraging Michael enough to seriously injure him. On Tuesday he flipped Michael's monitor off during a bathroom break, which nearly gave the man a heart attack when he thought his computer turned off for no reason. Gavin earned a punch in the arm for that.

Wednesday, Gavin took out his phone camera and filmed Michael for what he claimed could be a behind the scenes video. He narrated Michael's actions in a low voice, talking about their Jersey addition as if he were some rare animal. A couple minutes into it, Michael yanked the camera from Gavin's hands and tossed it on the floor behind him. Gavin wailed at the loss and told Michael he would have to buy him a new one, but of course the carpet softened the fall and Gavin's phone suffered no damage.

“You better tone down the shit,” Geoff lectured him Thursday morning. “Even you aren't normally this bad.”

Gavin laughed and shrugged, though it was becoming more obvious why he insisted on pestering Michael more than anyone else.

He did take Geoff's advice in the end, and left Michael alone the rest of the week. He brought his own lunch for Thursday and stayed in with Michael again, making light chatter. Though Michael kept quiet, his animosity kept itself at bay. Gavin smiled often. It was probably the best lunch of his life, related in no way to his meal.

“Find an apartment yet?” he dared to ask in the lulling Friday afternoon. Geoff warned him to get his work done ASAP so they could go home and watch movies with Griffon and Millie, and Jack looked about ready to go, as soon as Michael finished up.

“No.” Michael puffed out a little breath. “This place is pretty popular as far as apartment's go.”

“Too bad my house is nicer than an apartment, you might not want to leave,” Jack said. Michael rolled his eyes, knowing Jack couldn't see the expression, but Gavin snickered and that gave him away. “Hey, I offered to help you look.”

“I appreciate it,” Michael said without turning from his work. “But I can find a place by myself.”

Jack nodded. “If you say so.”

Michael looked like he wanted to take offense, his eyes trained on his computer. Gavin bounced in his chair beside him.

“Come on, Gavin,” Geoff said fifteen minutes later. “I'm done, let's go home.”

“Wait, I gotta finish this one thing.” Gavin whipped his seat back to the desk.

Geoff snorted and pulled the chair back a few inches. “You've been sitting there doing nothing the past ten minutes, you just want to stare at your crush a few minutes longer. We're going,” he said with a tone of finality. Gavin sputtered at the crush comment, and gathered his backpack obediently. He thought he caught Michael looking at him from the corner of his eye, but didn't bother to turn around and check, staring at the door.

“See ya boys.” Geoff waved and passed him.

Gavin clenched his hand, and made himself face Michael. The redhead quirked an eyebrow.

“Michael,” Gavin said quickly, before he chickened out, “do you wanna come over for a game night sometime? Doesn't have to be this weekend,” he added when Michael frowned. “I just-- thought you might like to hang out.”

Each second Michael didn't answer, Gavin felt his heart beat faster and wish he never asked.

“Not this weekend,” Michael said. “I still have an apartment to find. But, if I'm not busy next weekend, sure. Game night sounds good.”

“Gavin!” Geoff peeked his head in the office door. “We're going, come on.”

With a nod and a grin at Michael, Gavin said, “Bye,” and trailed after his boss.

* * *

The next week, Gavin couldn't sit still, thinking of their possible game night and too afraid to ask if Michael thought he would be free yet. Geoff loathed it. “I thought you'd make him hate you, now I have a lovesick idiot to deal with,” he said one morning after Gavin asked if he could pick up proper snacks for Michael and him to eat.

“I don't know what you're on about,” Gavin snorted over his breakfast. “I'm being friendly, Geoff.”

“You're causing me pain, is what you're doing.” He pointed a finger at Gavin. “If you two have a lovers' quarrel, I'm not dealing with it.”

“Friendly,” Gavin emphasized, his mouth full of toast. “I'm allowed to be friends with him without you being an asshole.”

“Whatever,” Geoff dismissed. “We're gonna be late for work.”

They were late that morning, and Gavin didn't mind. He smiled at Michael, happy despite the man barely acknowledging him. He didn't seem to talk to anyone at length during the work day. Gavin was starting to accept that. Agreeing to a game night was a big enough success at this point.

Geoff is wrong, he thought. Just because two blokes want to be friends doesn't mean they want to get romantic. He read into things too much.

“Michael,” Gavin crooned that Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah?” The redhead barely moved.

Gavin bit his lip. “Are you free for game night?” Fingers tapping, breath held.

Michael slipped his headphones off. “I still haven't found a place--”

“Oh, stop torturing yourself already,” Jack cut in, facing them. “You spent all last weekend and the one before walking around Austin or driving with me to different places. I'm tired of it and you should be too. Spend some time playing games with Gavin.”

Gavin looked at him hopefully. Michael took in his expression, shot a small glare at Jack, and sighed. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess I'm free, according to Jack. When should I be over?”

Though he should be happy Michael agreed, Gavin deflated. “You don't have to come.”

Michael frowned, and sighed again, louder, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, God,” he moaned, “please don't do that. Don't pout with that dumb face of yours.”

“It's fine, Michael.” Gavin spun to his desk. “You can keep looking for an apartment.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, and slid a hand down his face. “I'm coming, God damn it, tell me what time.” Michael kicked Gavin's chair for emphasis.

A smirk pulled at Gavin's lips. He worked to keep it away, still pouting. “You obviously don't want to,” he said, a bit more breathy than necessary.

“Gavin, I swear to God,” Michael snarled, “if you don't give me a fucking time to come to Geoff's for your precious game night, I'll force Jack to drive me over at dawn, knock down your door, and toss you out of bed.”

“He'd do it, too,” Jack added helpfully.

Gavin couldn't help his smirk, peering at Michael from the corner of his eye. “All right, how about six o' clock Saturday?” he said. “No need to bring anything, I'll make Geoff get what we need.”

“I'm gonna murder both of you.” Geoff leaned back to smack Gavin in the head, and looked at Michael. “I won't blame you if you don't show.”

Michael shrugged. “Jack's right, I guess. I could use a breather.”

Geoff resumed upright position in his chair. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

The upcoming event had Gavin scrambling to get everything ready Saturday night, energy buzzing through him.

Griffon laughed as he put chips and dip in a server and brought it out to the living room. “This might be a little overboard,” she said, when Gavin reentered to grab a bowl of pretzels.

“Maybe,” he admitted, dashing away again. “But,” he said as he walked back and rummaged in the fridge to double check they had good beer, which shouldn't really be a question in Geoff's house, “Michael's been surly all month. If I can get him to cheer up a bit, it'll make work better for everyone.”

“Mm.” Griffon ran her fingers over the counter. “And what do I tell Millie when she asks if you have a date?”

“Griffon,” Gavin said as he shut the fridge. “Don't tease, Geoff does a good job of that already.”

“All right.” She put her hands up defensively. “I'm just saying.”

“Right.” Gavin rolled his eyes and nabbed the small bowl of M&Ms.

A little after six, Gavin heard the sound of tires in the driveway and jumped from his seat on the couch. Griffon snickered. He shot her a look, before going to the door. Gavin had no idea what he expected, but broke into a grin when he saw Michael standing on their welcome mat, Jack's car pulling out of the drive behind him.

“Have him home by eleven!” Jack yelled out the window.

“Will do!” Gavin shot back with a wave.

“So are we doing this or what?” Michael asked. He had his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. Jack was right, Gavin thought, Michael needed to relax.

“Come on in.” Gavin stepped aside and swept his arm out, inviting him in. Michael rolled his eyes. He tossed his shoes off at the door and wandered to the living room, met by Griffon and Millie on the couch.

“Hi,” Michael said, glancing around for a seat. He spotted an armchair and took it just as Gavin walked in.

“Hello.” Griffon smiled and took Millie's hand. “We'll leave you boys to it. Geoff's in the bedroom if you need him. Let's go, sweetie.” She tugged her daughter off the couch.

“Okay,” she said. Millie looked at Gavin, grinning. “Have fun, Gavvers.”

Gavin gave her a small salute. When they left, he bent down to turn the Xbox on. “So, what'll it be?” he asked, running the pad of his finger over the number of games shelved beneath the television. “I'm up for whatever.”

“Gavin, why'd you invite me over?”

The question caught Gavin off guard. He turned to Michael with a slow gulp. “Um, what?”

Michael blew out a sigh. “Pay attention, Gavin. Why'd you invite me here?”

“Uh.” Eloquent as always. Gavin searched his fried brain for any semblance of an answer. “For games?” he tried.

“Bzzt, wrong.” Michael met his eyes with a strong gaze. “Everybody else leaves me alone, you're the one that's always pestering, and I wanna know why the hell you bother.”

“Oh.” Gavin swallowed. “Um, not sure, I guess.” He licked his lips. “I mean, I'm friendly with just about everybody, and when you didn't seem like you wanted to be friends, it was . . . I dunno, weird?” Gavin laughed, short and fake. “Americans are always nice to me. Your attitude left an impression.”

Michael didn't look impressed at that moment, either. “Well,” he said eventually, “what's on the arsenal for today?”

Gavin smiled, glad for the change in subject. “Geoff's games are top.” He gestured to the shelf. “Pick whatever you'd like.”

Michael rolled off the chair onto his feet, kneeling beside Gavin to look at the games. His eyes settled on Mass Effect, and pulled it out. He slipped the disc into the Xbox and took a controller, resuming his seat.

“You like Mass Effect?” Gavin asked as he sat on the couch.

“Not really,” Michael admitted, “but the multiplayer's decent.”

The food on the table remained untouched. Gavin didn't feel like eating, and Michael never so much as looked at it. They started the first game in near silence, the atmosphere so awkward it made Gavin want to squirm. He wished Michael hadn't asked why he was invited; even Gavin wasn't sure of the answer.

“All right, let's take out some aliens,” Michael said, after signing in to Xbox Live. He leaned forward in his chair, controller held tight and wrists resting on his knees. Gavin took a similar position as he flicked through the menu.

“This one?” he asked, hovering over a mission.

“Sure.” Michael sounded like he couldn't care less. Gavin frowned and selected it.

The first few minutes, nothing happened. Michael and Gavin followed the layout of the spaceship calmly. When the enemies started showing, Michael switched to gamer mode, that Gavin saw in the beginnings of the few Rage Quit recordings Michael did in front of him. He didn't get mad until a little while in, after his frustration built to the point of boiling over.

“Get that guy on the left, Gavin!” Michael leaned right with his character. Several enemies fell at the hand of his gun. “Gavin!”

The Brit snapped to attention. He shot wildly before getting the hang of the game's gun, hitting several enemies. “Move, Gavin!” Michael ordered.

Michael turned out to be rather bossy in games like this. Gavin obeyed his commands with little complaint, though a couple times he pursed his lips at Michael's tone. Twenty or so minutes in, when the enemies started coming in waves, Michael got more angry and Gavin got impatient.

“Get him, get him, get him-- Gavin!” Michael stamped his foot on the carpet. “What was that? Why didn't you shoot him?”

“Too busy looting, mate.” Gavin retrieved the ammo from the abandoned container before he helped Michael take down their adversaries. “You need supplies, you know.”

“Shoot first, you moron.” Michael hit buttons rapidly. “What's the point of teamwork if we don't do anything together?”

Gavin snorted and got more loot from a crate. “Sure, Michael.”

He took a moment to glance over at the Jersey man, brow knitting together at the sight. Michael had red hair, but it wasn't the brightest color, more of a toned down auburn. At this moment, however, Gavin could swear it looked flaming red. He chanced a look at the lights, because they had to be doing something to Michael's locks, and looked himself over for any odd changes.

“You idiot!” Michael roared. “Pay attention!” His character lay dead on the screen, Gavin's severely injured.

“Sorry, Michael.” Gavin focused on the game and shot at the remaining enemies.

Some time later, Geoff made his way to the room, carrying a beer and scratching his head idly. He leaned on the couch behind Gavin. “What's up, boys?”

“We're busy, Geoff.”

“Ah, Mass Effect.” Geoff pulled from his beer. “Having a good time, Michael?”

The redhead narrowed his eyes. “If Gavin would quit dying on me, yeah.”

“You died first, Michael,” Gavin pointed out with a sly grin. Michael grunted in response.

“Well, you guys look like you're having fun, so I'll leave you alone.” Geoff shoved off the back of the couch. “But don't let that food go bad,” he said, pointing to the table. “I didn't pay good money for you two to ignore that shit.”

Gavin waited until Geoff was out of earshot to say, “He's got a point. Maybe we call it here, have some bevs, and pick another game?”

“Yeah, sure,” Michael agreed easily, and tossed his controller on the cushion beside him. “I'm done with this game.”

Gavin grabbed a handful of chips and scooped them in the dip. He held a napkin beneath his hand while he ate, wary of dirtying Geoff's couch. Michael took only a single chip at a time and leaned over the table while he ate them. “Any alcohol?” He turned curiously to Gavin.

“Ah, yeah, in the fridge.” Gavin pushed off the couch. “I'll get it.”

“No cheap stuff,” Michael called after him.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Gavin said. He meandered to the kitchen and grabbed a couple drinks, pausing on his way back. Michael seemed to be enjoying himself, but he focused on the game entirely. When Gavin and Geoff played, they could talk about arbitrary topics between tasks and generally joke around. Michael didn't so much as crack a smile.

Gavin brought the drinks to the living room, blowing out a quiet sigh. Michael reclined in the armchair. He took the drink when Gavin offered it, popped the cap easily and took a swig. “Ugh, strong,” he said, shuddering.

“Geoff doesn't mess around.” Gavin gave him a small smirk. “Bottoms up.” He twisted the cap off and drank some, blanching at the taste. Gavin wished he could get drunk without suffering through the actual act of drinking. “So what's up next?”

“Well, firstly.” Michael stood from his chair and plopped himself on the couch beside Gavin. “If we're cooperating on stuff, it's better to sit this way so I can see when you're being a total idiot.”

“Um.” Gavin swallowed. “Okay.”

“Do you guys have Assassin's Creed?” Michael moved to swipe at the game shelf from his seat, but the distance was too much. He grunted and knelt on the floor. “The multiplayer for that is pretty good.”

“I don't use the multiplayer much.” Gavin took another swig from his bottle. “Geoff sucks at the Co-op mode and there's always jerks in public multi.”

“I'll co-op with you.” Michael shrugged. “If you do your part in the game, I'll do mine.” He tugged the game from its confines and returned Mass Effect. “Just don't die thirty billion times again.”

“I think not.” Gavin laughed. “I'm great at this game.”

He chose an innocent looking monk when they entered the game and had to decide their characters. Michael took the form of a soldier, which Gavin thought would make him an easier target. This turned out wrong, however, as Michael managed to kill their objectives twice and protect Gavin from a hunter with a knife to the back.

“How did you do that?” Gavin squawked, impressed.

Michael giggled as his character ran away. “Skills, dude.”

Gavin tried his best to be helpful, for all of ten minutes. After that he had too much fun watching on the sidelines when Michael got murdered and running away instead of killing their pursuers. Michael smacked him twice on the arm. “And you say Geoff sucks at multi,” Michael growled. “You're a terrible partner.” Gavin laughed, head thrown back in pure joy.

Assassin's Creed lasted a good hour. Gavin took the time between kills to munch some food, which cost him his life once when he couldn't get away quickly enough. Michael snickered at that and pulled a drink.

At the end of it, they won four of six rounds. “Suck on that!” he cheered, pumping the air victoriously. “Choke on failure!”

“I did most of the work,” Gavin complained. “You kept hiding on rooftops!”

“Yeah, right,” Michael said with a chuckle. “All this winning's made me hungry.” He took a few pretzels from a bowl and grinned at Gavin as he ate them. “Tastes like victory,” he teased.

Gavin bemoaned the lack of credit given to him, though his smile gave him away. “What next?” he asked, shifting to grab another game from the shelf.

“Actually.” Michael paused, and tapped his watch. “It's getting late. Jack's the last person I'd let be the boss of me, but I don't really want to bang on his door to be let in at one in the morning.”

Gavin visibly deflated. “Oh, all right.” He sat back on his heels, and sighed. “How are you getting home?”

“I'll walk.” Michael stood and straightened his clothes.

Gavin frowned and got up. “Jack drove you here, though.”

Michael faltered on his way out the living room, fingers clenched. With a sour bite to his tone, he said, “Well, it's a nice night. I can want to walk home, can't I?”

Gavin panicked and backtracked. “No, no, of course you can, I just--” He could swear he shook under the accusatory look Michael gave him. “Isn't it a long way to Jack's from here? Walking that would take a while, and you said you didn't want to get back late . . .” Gavin trailed off uselessly, unsure of himself anymore.

Michael's stare dropped to the floor. “Jack won't want to pick me up,” he said, gentler. After another moment, he continued, “So, are you gonna walk me to the door, asshole?”

The swearing was a good sign. Gavin swallowed, struggling to gather his thoughts. He nodded. “Yeah, sure.” Gavin followed Michael to their front door and stopped at the edge as Michael opened it and stepped on the porch. A question danced on his lips. Gavin licked them. The answer might not be what he wanted. He decided to risk it. “Did you have fun?”

Michael took his time processing what he said, leveling his gaze. Gavin thought he might regret it, ready to tell him never mind, he didn't have to answer, when Michael smirked. “Yeah,” he said, with a small laugh. “I did. Thanks, Gavin.”

He turned and left in a flash, not allowing Gavin so much as 'you're welcome.' The Brit watched him walk down the drive, holding tight to the edge of the doorway.

“Your date gone?” A hand slapped his back, Geoff appearing out of nowhere with another drink in his hand.

“Geoff!” Gavin jumped and squirmed away from his hand. “Do you have to do that?”

“What?” He grinned innocently. “Hey, how'd it go?”

“Fine.” Gavin scurried past Geoff, down the hall. “I'm going to bed.”

“Ah, come on, don't sulk,” Geoff said, but Gavin had already gone to his room and slammed the door. He wasn't about to let the Ramsey's tease him about this.

Michael Jones spent a night gaming with him. It was possibly the best night of Gavin's young life, and he hoped there would be many more like it.

* * *

Gavin's heart fluttered when Michael smiled openly on Monday and said, “Morning, Gav.”

A nickname, that had to be a good sign. “Morning, Michael,” he cooed back, accent perhaps a bit thicker than usual.

Michael had yet to find an apartment, and Gavin refrained from bothering him about it. What he did bother him with was more teasing. Taking Michael's stuff and pestering him about videos was easy and safe, falling into the pattern they seemed to be establishing.

“Gavin!” Michael roared more than once, threatening to choke him or flip his chair again.

“I'm only messing, Michael,” Gavin replied, bouncing in his chair with the shit eating grin he knew most everyone in the office hated. Michael would groan and put his face in his hands, before he resumed his work and Gavin thought of what he could do next to get his attention. Despite the noise, Geoff no longer berated the Brit about his behavior, and Gavin took that as another good sign. He did get his work done through it all, staying with Michael during lunch some days to watch him record Rage Quit.

These were the times Gavin talked to Michael most, when no one else was around and he finished the bout of yelling at whatever game Geoff threw at him that week. After a long hour of sitting at his desk with a red face and spouting endless swear words, Michael removed his headphones and sighed, long and exhausted.

“How do you do it?”

Michael turned his head from where he had it against the back of his chair. “Do what?”

Gavin shrugged. “You know, the rage thing. How do you get so angry? I've been playing games forever and I don't think I could get as mad as you.”

The look Michael shot him made Gavin think maybe he wasn't the first to ask. He sat up straight and ran a hand through his hair. “It's a process,” he said slowly. “You've seen that it takes a while for me to work up the anger. And I don't think I could do it, except--” Michael stopped, breathing heavy through his nose. “I have a lot of built up anger.”

Guilt tugged at Gavin's chest. Michael sounded more pained than ever in those eight words. He tapped his feet on the carpet, looking down. “Um.” Gavin bit his lip. “Thanks for telling me, I guess. How's the apartment search going?”

Michael brightened at the change of subject, though his response would make people think otherwise. “Fucking terrible. I'm never finding one at this rate.”

Gavin refrained from asking about Michael's moods after that. He still watched in wonder as the Jersey man worked himself into a tightly wound coil whenever he could watch the recordings, but no longer said anything about how much it impressed him.

One week passed, then two. Fall anywhere else meant leaves falling and colder weather. In Austin, it meant more of their hot, dry heat with the occasional rainstorm thrown in. Gavin tugged at his collar every time he went outside, almost wishing for England and its cool atmosphere.

He tried inviting Michael to Geoff's again. To his surprise and disappointment, Michael said no. “Geoff just put more work on my plate, I have to adjust,” he said. Gavin frowned and whined that Michael no longer cared about him. That earned him a slap to the shoulder.

“Some other time, Gav,” Michael offered.

Meanwhile, Geoff kept expanding Achievement Hunter. He and Jack worked together to fling ideas for new projects, and Burnie moved in and out more than Gavin thought he should be with Red vs. Blue constantly going. There was one man Geoff kept mentioning, someone by the name of Ray, that made community videos for them. Gavin thought he recalled seeing a couple, though Michael volunteered to deal with them often, watching to double check for errors and going through the slow process of uploading it to YouTube. When asked why, he said he and Ray knew each other.

That put Gavin off more than he liked. It took Michael weeks to so much as talk to him, but some man on the other side of the country was best buddies with him. After he learned about Ray, Gavin spent that much more of his time wiggling into Michael's spectrum of attention.

And no matter what, Gavin made sure not to get too drunk in front of his new friend, because drunk Gavin made too many decisions sober Gavin would regret.

That wasn't hard, considering Michael almost never went out with the office crew. Even with goading from Jack, he refused and said he wanted to go home early, he felt tired. Gavin, who would rather watch what he drank than not have Michael with them, tried hard to convince him.

“One drink,” he begged, toward the end of September. “You've been here ages, Michael, and not once have you gone out drinking with us.”

“I just don't feel like it, all right?” Michael frowned at him, though it was a small frown that meant annoyance more than true anger.

“Michael,” Gavin whined. “Please?”

“I said fucking no, Gavin.”

“Michael,” he crooned again, high pitched, his accent curling Michael's name and sharpening the syllables.

“Oh, my God.” Michael put his face in his hands. “You know I hate it when you whine like that, it's so goddamn annoying.”

Gavin pulled a grin that should be illegal. “I want you to come with us, Michael. Have some fun, let loose. You're wound so tight.”

“Hey.” Michael lifted his face, jabbed a finger at Gavin. “I like to drink in the comfort of my own fucking house where each beer doesn't cost six dollars. Don't accuse me of being 'wound tight.'”

Geoff hit his palm on the desk to get their attention. “Will you two cut it out?” He looked at Gavin. “Stop bitching at him.” Then Michael. “He's right about that, you know. Most people here like to hang out together. It's kind of off putting if you never spend time with us outside work.” Back to Gavin. “With a few exceptions.”

Under Geoff's scrutiny, Gavin sunk in his chair.

Michael furrowed his brow, staring intently at Geoff. “So, is this a matter of me keeping my job?” he asked, sarcastic.

Geoff opened his mouth to answer, stopped. “You know what,” he said after thinking the question over, “I'm gonna say it is, if only to shut up Gavin. Come out drinking tonight or you're fired.”

Michael flared his nostrils. “You can't be serious.”

“That's the deal.” Geoff shrugged and went back to his work. “Take it or leave it.”

Gavin bounced in his chair, as he did when he got his way. “It'll be fun, trust me.”

Michael groaned, resting his arms on the desk to bury his face in. Muffled in the skin, he said, “I fucking hate all of you.”

They went to a bar close to the office, the Achievement Hunter crew plus Burnie, Barbara, and Lindsay. The girls spent less time with them, but Barbara liked Burnie and Gus, and Lindsay hung with Barbara more often than not, so when one joined the group, the other tended to follow. Gavin thought Lindsay initiated going out this time, but couldn't be sure.

The bar wasn't big, though enough people crowded in to make it feel that way. A small dance floor took up the main area, with booths, tables, and a long counter taking up either side. Geoff went straight to the bartender to order a drink. Barbara and Lindsay went for drinks as well, saying something about dancing their asses off after they had a few. Jack kept near Burnie until Geoff returned with several beers to pass to them.

Gavin hung back with Michael, his hands in his pockets. The first hour before he got well and truly sloshed was the worst. He might as well spend it in Michael's company. “You want anything?” he asked, looking down at the redhead. “I'll buy.” By which he meant he would try to make Geoff pay, but that was beside the point.

“Sure,” Michael said, hesitantly. “Sure, one beer.”

Gavin watched him a moment, went to find Geoff to raid his wallet. Some convincing later, which involved a speech about how Gavin wasn't sure he had enough money with him, Geoff gave him a twenty and slipped over to the bar to order a couple beers.

He returned to Michael triumphant and handed him his drink. Michael opened it and took a swig. “Congrats,” he said, “you got me out for one drink. Happy?”

“Very.” Gavin grinned and drank a bit. “You have no idea how long I've wanted you to come spend time with the whole crew.”

Michael didn't say anything, sipping his beer.

The gang eventually settled at a couple tables next to each other, Barbara and Lindsay with Michael and Gav, Geoff and Jack with Burnie. Most of the talk centered around work and events in Austin, the major things everyone had in common.

“Mm,” Burnie hummed as the beer bottle slipped from his lips. “You know what I keep seeing on the news? Some story about this big orange peacock that's supposedly loose in the city.”

“Oh, God, I know.” Geoff sighed. “Griffon won't stop talking about it. It's been on TV forever, when are they gonna catch the damn thing?”

“I don't know, man.” Burnie took another swig.

Michael shifted next to Gavin, though he didn't notice.

“Well, it's a bird,” Barbara said, in response to Geoff. “They can fly and stuff, it's probably really hard to catch.”

“No shit, it can fly?” Burnie laughed. “Of course it's hard to catch something that flies! But it's one animal, if they really wanted to catch it they would've done it by now.” He shrugged. “I think they're letting it stay around for the publicity. It can't actually be a peacock if it's orange, but 'weird colored bird' catches the news better.”

Lindsay frowned, twirling her drink in her hands. “If that's the case, I've lost respect for the local media. Animals need to be left alone or kept in a safe home, not bothered endlessly.”

Michael shifted again, his legs rubbing together. Gavin quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. He looked at Geoff's table. “I've heard enough about the bloody bird, let's change the subject.”

A loud scrape made all their heads turn. Michael pushed his chair from the table and stood. “Bathroom,” he muttered, and dashed away. Gavin craned his neck behind him. The crowd obscured Michael in a matter of seconds.

“Is he okay?” Lindsay asked with concern.

“I'll check on him,” Gavin volunteered. He stood and chased after Michael, working his way through the bodies, toward the bathroom hallway. Luckily there were no people there, and he catches sight of Michael leaning against the far wall, head down, hands in his hair. “Michael?” Gavin asks, wary, as he steps closer.

Michael looks up, sighs. “Leave me alone, Gavin.”

Sober Gavin might agree and run off. But his first beer worked its way into his system, giving Gavin just enough confidence to say, “No. Tell me what's wrong.”

Michael tightened his fists in his hair. “I'm not in the mood for this.”

“You're never in the mood for anything!” Gavin accused, less than a foot away now. “You're a wonderful person, Michael, sweet and polite and funny, but you never get to show it because you say no to everyone, all the time. Geoff had to threaten your bloody job just to get you down here with us. Stop being a pleb and tell me why you ran off.”

The outburst caught Michael off guard. He looked up, hands leaving his head, unable to resist a small smirk. “When'd you grow a pair of balls?”

“About the time my BAC went up,” Gavin said with a shrug. “Please, Michael.”

A long pause. Michael pat his palms on his jeans, thinking. Gavin waited patiently. A few people passed them to enter the bathroom or come out. Michael almost spoke once when someone walked through the hall and the awkward atmosphere forced silence from him.

Finally, Michael spoke when no one else was around to interrupt, though his answer struck Gavin oddly. “It's personal,” he said. “For now, let's chalk it up to I don't like talking about birds, all right?” Michael tapped his chest with his pointer finger. “I'm sensitive about it.”

Gavin didn't know Michael as the sensitive type. He nodded anyway. “All right,” he agreed, “I can do that. But,” he added, inching a bit closer to Michael, his heart beating wildly in his chest, “keeping secrets isn't healthy, Michael. I'd like to know more, when and if you want to tell me.”

For the first time since they met, Gavin swore he saw Michael blush. The poor lighting in the hall made it hard to tell. Gavin smiled and stepped out of his personal space. “Come on, let's get back. The group's worried about you.”

Michael waited a moment before he followed Gavin. When the Brit looked back, he caught Michael patting his cheeks. Their eyes met, Michael promptly put his hand to his side. Gavin smirked and continued to lead them back to their table.

* * *

Michael eventually found an apartment, for which Gavin was glad.

“It's right near the office,” Michael explained to Geoff one morning. “Not huge, but not cramped, either. So I was hoping I could get Friday off to start moving my stuff in.”

“By yourself?” Geoff stopped his rearranging of their game shelf to look at Michael with disbelief. “That's gonna take forever, dude.”

Michael shrugged. “Jack will help me this weekend. I wanna start as soon as I can.”

Geoff stared at Michael a long time, sighing. “Make sure you get your work done beforehand,” he said. “Or else I'll make Gavin pick up the slack.”

Gavin, who had been busy working and not really paying attention to their conversation, turned at the sound of his name. “Excuse me, Geoff? What was that?” he asked, though Gavin knew full well anytime Geoff mentioned him in the office it was to verbally bash him.

“Nothing.” Satisfied with the layout of games, Geoff stepped back from the shelf. “Are you sure you don't want some help?” He looked at Michael again. “Moving shit is a long process.”

“I knew that when I got all my junk to Austin. I'll be fine for one day,” Michael assured him.

Geoff didn't look like he believed Michael for one minute, but dropped the matter and returned to his work.

Gavin stopped himself from saying what he wanted to, that he would help Michael move on Friday. Two employees out only caused more trouble for Geoff; that was likely the reason Jack wouldn't be helping until the weekend. He tapped his feet on the floor, hoping Michael would be all right.

Just to be sure, Thursday afternoon Gavin did something he wouldn't expect from himself in a million years.

When Michael returned from lunch with Jack and Geoff, Gavin having stayed behind to catch up on his assignments, he handed Michael a slip of paper. He eyed him warily as he took it. “What's this?”

“My phone number,” Gavin said simply. He willed himself to act casual. “I don't know if you have it or not, but, ah, give me a ring if you need help moving this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah.” Michael reached into his back pocket. “Jack gave me all his work numbers when I got here. Yours is in here, too, I think. Yeah, right there.” Michael flipped his phone around to show the screen, where his first and last name were highlighted in a list of contacts.

Gavin turned pink and sunk in his chair. He snapped back up when he remembered where he was. “Right. So, give me a call, yeah? If you need help.” Gavin licked his lips to stop himself from biting them.

Michael stood still, phone held in Gavin's direction. “Uh, sure. I will.” He tucked it back in his pocket, sat at his desk. Gavin exhaled heavily. Never did he give anyone his number unless they asked for it, not even girls he tried to pick up when he had enough beers. It figured that the one time he tries, Michael already had it.

“Did Gavin just volunteer for work?” Jack asked, without looking away from his screen. “Geoff, did we cross dimensions after lunch?”

Geoff laughed. Gavin pulled into himself further.

Friday, all Gavin could think about was Michael. Not that that was unusual; ever since Michael moved there, he dominated Gavin's thoughts, especially after they got friendly. Messing around in the office happened more than ever because Gavin couldn't keep away from Michael.

But this was different. Gavin offered to help him. It might mean getting chewed out by Geoff for leaving him another employee down on a Friday. Gavin thought it worth the risk. He and Michael never spent time together outside work and going out with other Rooster Teeth members. He wanted desperately to find out if Michael acted the same, or had a different attitude when not surrounded by coworkers in a tiny office.

His phone stayed on his desk all day Friday, never buzzing or ringing. Gavin's eyes flicked to it every few minutes, checking it often. Geoff saw this, ruffled Gavin's hair, mumbling something about teenage lovers. Gavin swatted at him for it.

It wasn't until just before five that Gavin's phone lit up and vibrated all over the desk. He stood at the door, ready to ask Gus a question about next week's podcast, and dashed away when he heard it. Gavin picked it up and saw a text from Michael. His heart picked up speed as he opened the message.

Can you get over here? I got a shit ton of boxes and no place to put my crap.

Gavin grinned, about to text back, hesitated. The work day ended soon. Jack might be able to go help Michael right now, if he asked. Gavin decided to ere on the side of caution.

Jack could help if you wanted. Almost done at the office.

The reply came fast.

No shit, but I'm gonna be around him all weekend with this. Need some better company.

Michael would rather spend a miserable time with him than Jack. Gavin held his phone close and looked at Geoff.

“Um, Geoff?”

He leaned backwards over his chair to look at Gavin. “Yeah?”

“Can you drop me off at Michael's after work?” he asked tentatively. The phone felt hot in his hands. “He wants me to help move stuff.”

“Why not me? I'm helping tomorrow anyway, half his stuff is still at my house,” Jack said.

Gavin swallowed, shrugged.

Geoff let out a long sigh. “Fine. But if you get back late, we're eating without you.”

That suited Gavin perfectly well.

* * *

Michael didn't joke about it being close to the office. The drive took all of twenty seconds. Geoff hit his back as Gavin stepped out into the light autumn breeze. “Call us when you're done,” he said. “Or call if you're staying over, so we know you're not dead.”

Gavin nodded. “Sure thing.”

He texted Michael as Geoff drove away. At the building.

A harried Michael came around the corner a couple minutes later, down a concrete path that wound around the building. “Come on,” he said, sounding tired. Gavin hurried to obey.

The apartment sat on the third floor. The men walked up two flights of stairs and down another concrete path to get there. Michael slipped the key in fast and urged Gavin in. Waiting inside for them was an absolute mess of boxes and possessions. Gavin stepped around a pile of blankets as he took off his shoes and looked around. Several of the boxes said IKEA, presumably furniture to be put together. Others had marker label of their contents, including clothes, video games, and 'kitchen shit.' Gavin chuckled at that, because it seemed just like Michael to get so fed up labeling boxes that he started writing swear words.

Michael tossed his sweater on a folding chair in the empty area to the right of the door. “Living room,” he said, gesturing wildly with his arms. “I'll let you know what goes in here. Most of the boxes are where they should be as far as where the items belong. Except.” Michael paused to grab the 'kitchen shit' box and tossed it on the counter that bordered the nearby open kitchen. “Now all the boxes are where they should be. Anyway, I just wanted some help unpacking and organizing stuff. Most of it is at Jack's, I got mainly the essentials and some shitty furniture.”

“Got it.” Gavin nodded, and eyed the nearest box. It said 'leftovers.' “What's that?”

Michael looked where Gavin pointed. “Oh, yeah.” He bent down and opened the top. In the box sat coat hangers, some stuffed animals, souvenir plastic cups, and other paraphernalia Gavin couldn't quite see in the jumble. “This is just stuff that wouldn't fit in the other boxes after I got all of it in order.” He stood again. “I'd recommend leaving that one last. Can you find the box that says books and put them over here?” Michael waved toward the shelf on their left, above what looked like a space for an entertainment system. “I need them above my computer,” he explained.

Gavin went to work. Upon opening the box, he found, not novels or how to books, but game guides. He picked one up and flipped through it. “Why do you have these?”

Michael glanced up from the box he was working over. Gavin could see towels inside. “Oh yeah,” he said. “PC games frustrate the shit out of me. Sometimes I buy those to have a bit more know how and maybe wanna throw my computer out the window less. Most of them are from when I was a kid, though. I don't buy 'em much anymore.”

“So why do you need them above the computer?” Gavin eyed the shelf.

“Mostly so they don't take up room in my piece of shit closet. Can you please just do what I ask? I thought you were helping.” Michael's tell tale signs of losing his patience came through in his tone and body language, as he grabbed a couple towels roughly and walked with more force than necessary to put them away, the room shaking a bit.

Gavin could understand why Michael might want to curb his rage with video games.

He put the books on the shelf as requested and tackled the next box. Other than a small few containing furniture, there weren't many to deal with; the way Michael spread them around the living room made it look like more work than it really was.

Digging around revealed a laundry basket, in which Gavin put what clothes he could find. “Most of my clothes are in the bedroom, those are the dirty ones,” Michael explained when he returned and took the last of the towels to the open kitchen to hang on the oven handle.

Gavin picked up the blankets he nearly tripped on and put them in the hall closet. Michael had his laptop, a wireless router, Xbox, and PS3 in the 'electronics' box. “Where do you want them?” Gavin asked, peering at Michael. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that this might be the most helpful Gavin had been since he was back in England with his mum ordering him to clean the house.

“Laptop on entertainment shelf below the books, everything else on the floor until I get the electricity figured out.” Michael glared at the switches on the far wall. “The idiots wired this place wrong, so I can't turn the fan on without the lights and vice versa.”

“Is that why that's on?” Gavin looked at the ceiling. “I just figured it was hot in here without it.”

“Well, that too,” Michael admitted.

Together, they cleared out the packing boxes, leaving only IKEA furniture. “One bed frame and some bar stools.” Michael patted a cardboard box. “Just like home,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “I don't get my actual living room set for another week.”

Gavin sat cross legged on the carpet, watching the sun go down through the glass balcony doors. It hit Michael nicely, highlighting his red curls. He looked wonderful like that, framed in light. Gavin had the sudden urge to look at it up close, and swallowed harshly.

“So.” He tried not to bite his tongue. “Is this all you want for today?”

Michael shrugged. “As far as moving shit around, I guess. Thanks for the help.”

“No problem. Happy to oblige.” Gavin stood, reached into his pocket for his phone. “I'll call Geoff and be out of your hair.”

Michael tilted his head, curious. “I guess I can't blame you for wanting to leave.”

“What-- no!” Gavin gripped his phone tight. “I mean, moving's no fun, but I-- well, I liked helping you.” Blood crept into his face, threatened to reveal to Michael how embarrassed he felt. “I wish we hung out more, actually.”

The words hung in the air quite some time. Michael stared at Gavin, who tried his best not to fidget under the gaze. What he said was true; they hadn't spent quality time alone since their one game night together. Gavin missed the feeling. Simply being here to help Michael put him on top of the world, though he would never tell him that.

“Stay for dinner.”

Gavin whipped his head up from the floor. “What?”

“You heard me,” Michael said, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “I'll order us a pizza and we can watch a movie on my laptop or something.”

If he were given a million dollars not to, Gavin wouldn't be able to hold back his grin. “Okay.”

It felt even better than game night. They picked some action flick Michael had stowed away, to be put in a DVD case with his other films when he got one. They waited until the pizza arrived to watch, sat crowded on the floor with Michael's laptop snuggled between them. “Don't drop any pizza on it,” Michael threatened. Gavin made sure to keep his slices over his crossed legs and nowhere near the computer.

The way they sat around it, close to the screen, their knees touched and legs occasionally brushed each other. Gavin swore Michael felt like a human flame, the heat reaching him through their jeans. He felt the same heat when they messed around in the office, as well. “Michael?” he asked, about halfway into the film.

He paused it, turned to Gavin. “Yeah?”

“Uh.” Suddenly Gavin felt inept. He almost abandoned the question. “Why are you so-- so hot?” he said when he got the nerve.

Michael leaned back with an arched eyebrow.

Gavin realized how the question sounded. He groaned and said, “Oh, God, I didn't mean it that way. I mean-- your skin, it's hot, I can feel it.” Gavin made vague gestures to Michael's legs. “I wondered why it's like that, if you had a medical thing, or--”

Another raised eyebrow look. Gavin shut himself up.

Michael touched his own leg, at the knee where they made contact. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “you could call it a medical thing. I have a higher internal temperature than a lot of people. No big deal.”

Gavin ceased berating himself for his stupidity. Michael met his eyes, honest and with a hint of something he couldn't place. “Well, uh,” he stuttered. “'M sorry if that was personal.”

“It's fine. Let's keep watching.” Michael turned the movie back on and grabbed his slice from where he set it on the pizza box beside them.

They stayed sat close during the movie. In fact, as the plot wrapped up and the credits rolled on the screen, Gavin could swear Michael felt closer than before. Their hips nudged each other, and if he wanted, Gavin could touch Michael's warm hand where it rested on his leg.

The thought proved too much to bear. When Michael shut the computer Gavin shot up and nabbed his phone out of his pocket. “I should get home, Geoff will be worried.” He typed a quick text, and stopped himself. On the floor, Michael frowned at him. “But this was fun,” he added. “Good pizza, good movie. Thank you.”

The frown stayed. “You're welcome,” Michael said, tight and controlled.

He fucked up badly, Gavin thought. He knelt back down. “Are you mad?”

“No, no.” Michael shifted away. “Go home, great to have you, thanks for the help.”

“Michael, I'm not rushing off cuz-- well, I bloody asked to spend time with you, didn't I?” Gavin felt the good mood slipping away, struggled to keep hold of it. “I-- I'm nervous,” he spat out before he could stop himself.

Michael stopped short at that. “Nervous? Why?”

Great, just confess everything, why don't you? Gavin sighed internally at his stupid brain. All the same, he wanted to keep to the honest route. “I wanna be your friend,” he said. “I didn't want you to think I was imposing on you.”

He gave a snort of derision. “Seriously, Gav? We're already friends, why the fuck else would I ask you to help me?” Michael met Gavin's gaze. “Don't worry about imposing, or anything else. I like having you around, as dumb as you are.”

The hammering in his chest had to be as loud as a bullhorn. Gavin cracked a small smile. “Please don't think I'm rushing off. I had fun, really.”

“Then stay here.”

The invitation caught him off guard, and it was a minute before Gavin understood. “What?”

Michael patted one of the IKEA boxes. “I still have to unpack my bed and shit. It'll take less time if we both do it, and you can spend the night.” Something flashed in his eyes. Uncertainty? Gavin couldn't tell for sure. “Geoff won't mind, will he?”

Gavin fingered the buttons of his phone. “Nah, I don't think so.”

The bed took the better part of an hour. Michael had his mattress already laid out in the bedroom, and they hauled it in the frame when they finished. “I hope you don't mind some loose blankets for tonight,” Michael said, taking a couple from the pile Gavin had moved in the bedroom earlier. “I don't want to bother with sheets right now.”

“Fine by me.” Gavin fingered the blanket Michael put on the bed. Soft and downy. “It's a bit hot in Austin for covers anyway.” He paused, as something registered in his mind. “You want us to share the bed?”

“Uh, yeah?” Michael dug in another box to pull out a few clothes. He tossed a couple at Gavin. “I don't have anyplace else for you to sleep. Don't worry, I'll keep to the edge.”

“That's not-- I mean, I don't need a whole lot of room.” Gavin twiddled his fingers in the fabric of the pajamas Michael was evidently loaning him.

“Yeah, but my skin is pretty hot.” Michael patted his arm. “Remember, my medical thing? You'll burn up if I stay too close.”

Gavin blushed at the thought. “Thanks, then. Sorry for the bother.”

“No bother,” Michael said with a shrug.

While Gavin dressed for bed, Michael brushed his teeth and washed his face. “No spare toothbrush,” he said apologetically.

Gavin waved the issue away and went to prepare for bed and leave Michael privacy to dress. In lieu of a toothbrush, Gavin scrubbed the plaque from his teeth with a tissue and resolved to clean with mouthwash when he got back home.

The sight of Michael in pajama pants and a t shirt should not be as appealing as Gavin found it when he stepped out of the bathroom. He sat curled on the bed with his phone, feet tucked close and one arm draped on a knee. “You coming?” he asked, and looked up when Gavin didn't move for several minutes.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, got in bed. “You sure this is good?”

“My bed isn't that small,” Michael protested.

“No, me staying over.” Gavin swallowed hard. “Like I said, imposing and all that.”

Michael punched him hard in the shoulder. Gavin grabbed the spot with a yelp. “I told you not to worry.” One of the redhead's rare smiles donned his face. “I like having you around, Gav.”

The only light in the room was the one in the ceiling. The room plunged into darkness when Michael shut it off. He felt his way back to the bed, cursing when his toe his the edge of the frame. They arranged themselves so Gavin had the right side, comfortably situated, and Michael took the far left edge. Gavin tried to coax Michael closer to the middle, only to be told, “Shut up and go to sleep, Gavin.”

He did as told and pulled the blanket over his waist. This proved a bad idea shortly when the heat in the room spiked. Gavin kicked the sheet off and slept peacefully on his back, Michael's borrowed shirt riding up his torso.

* * *

Gavin awoke to a sweat drenched face. He stared at the ceiling, unable to see in the dark, and ran a hand over his skin. His entire body was wet. Gavin groaned at the gross feeling-- the temperature must be higher than he thought that night. He got out of bed and tugged his shirt open by the neckline to fan his chest. A moment of fumbling and hitting the same bed corner Michael found earlier yielded the bathroom door. Gavin flicked the light on to look at himself.

It didn't look as bad as he felt. Wet spots covered his neck and armpits, and his pajama pants clung to his legs. He couldn't remember sweating this much since he first came to Austin. Gavin turned the water on and splashed some on his face, relief coursing through his veins at the chill.

Finished with the minor respite, Gavin chanced a glance at Michael, who must be as soaked as he, especially if his body temperature was higher than normal. To Gavin's confusion, the light from the bathroom showed an empty bed. The blankets sat on the floor, long kicked off by the Brit. Gavin peeked around the room, but Michael was nowhere to be seen. “Michael?” he called softly. No response. Gavin flicked the bedroom light and flinched at the sudden brightness. Still no Michael.

“Hm.” He left the bedroom, searching down the hall and in the kitchen and living room areas, flicking lights as he went. The fan turned on when he hit the living room light, proving Michael's complaint about the wiring. No sign of the man, though. It seemed Michael vanished in the middle of the night.

Gavin's heart began to pound with his rising panic. He took a deep, slow breath. Maybe Michael took a walk outside, he thought. He moved swiftly and dashed out the front door. It shocked him when he felt the night air, cool and crisp. As much as he sweated, Gavin thought it would be as hot as the daytime heatwaves outside. Perhaps the air conditioning in the apartment needed fixing.

Gavin looked left and right on the path outside the door. Nothing stirred on their floor or in the light of the streetlamps on the ground below. He checked over the railing several times. “Michael?” The neighbors might complain of noise, but Gavin cared less the more time passed without any sign of his friend.

The fifth time he called Michael's name, Gavin heard a strange noise. He stopped where he paced along the concrete and whipped his head around. “Michael?” he called, louder. The noise sounded again, though it was nothing like a human voice. Gavin's brow furrowed. He looked out over the rail again, his eyes struck by a streak of color in the leaves of the trees below.

Orange, bright and glowing. Gavin gripped the metal bars and leaned forward, careful not to fall. The object in the trees moved, and shot up in the air.

“Holy crap!” Gavin jolted at the movement, eyes still on the object. A moment to intake the sight told him it was an animal, a bird, his brain supplied, and he struggled to keep his eyes on it as it wound over the trees and near several buildings. Its feathers twirled in its path like flames, wings beating and another call, the strange noise Gavin heard, escaping its beak.

He recalled the conversations with the Ramseys, the concern about the strange wild bird. Gavin wondered if this could be it, orange and red plumage bright against the darkness. He only had a short time to ponder before the bird dove back in the trees, a loud shriek following it.

“What the hell,” Gavin muttered. He leaned as far over the railing as he dared, catching a few more glimpses of the creature through branches and past buildings, until he could no longer see it. His brain swirled as it processed what he saw. Gavin could say he didn't care about some wild bird all he liked, but that was truly a sight to behold. He certainly never saw a bird like that in any zoo.

Despite his effort to listen for another call, Gavin heard nothing but the buzz of streetlamps and the occasional car driving on a late schedule. A breeze picked up after a moment, soothing his hot body. Gavin remembered why he was out here, and backed from the rail to resume his search.

The mission had to be cut short, however, because there at the end of the walkway stood Michael, hair disheveled and an eyebrow raised suspiciously at Gavin. “What are you doing?”

“Michael!” Gavin rushed to his side and hugged him, backing off quickly when his skin flared against Michael's, heat transferring easily. “I thought you vanished!” Gavin said sheepishly as he stepped back. “You weren't in bed when I woke up.”

Michael frowned. “Calm down, I took a walk. You look sweaty,” he observed, gaze moving down Gavin's body.

“Oh, uh, I guess it got hot in the apartment.” Gavin pulled his shirt away from his body again. “That's why I woke up, sweating a bloody storm.”

“You can take a shower and change if you need to,” Michael offered as he moved past to open the apartment door. The hand with his keys froze when the knob turned all too easily. “Of course you didn't lock it,” he muttered under his breath.

“I was looking for you!” Gavin said in his defense. They went inside and Gavin dutifully shut the door behind himself. “I almost panicked, Michael, I'm not gonna remember to lock the damn door.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Chill out. Let's go back to bed, I'm mega tired.”

“You're so unfair,” Gavin whined. “You don't even care that I was worried?”

The redhead stopped, and turned to Gavin. Michael smirked, put a hand on Gavin's shoulder. “Sure I care, Gav. I'm only teasing.”

The tone he took was gentle, more than Gavin heard on a regular basis. His heart kept beating hard, this time not from shock or worry. Michael Jones will be the death of me, he thought.

* * *

It was difficult not to think of the bird constantly. Seeing it in person, Gavin could understand why the citizens of Austin might be obsessing.

He never mentioned it to Michael, remembering the fiasco at the bar. Whatever his issue with birds was, Gavin wouldn't pry. He thanked Michael for the fun night and went home the next morning, eager to tell Griffon what he saw.

“Really?” Her reaction didn't disappoint. Griffon eyes went wide and she dropped the knitting in her hands, yarn and needles bouncing across the couch cushion. “Where, when? Was it as big as they said?”

“Outside Michael's apartment, not far from the office.” Gavin grinned at the thrill of having a story to tell. “It was huge, biggest peacock I ever saw. Though it doesn't look so much like a peacock when you get a proper view.” His lips pursed. The bird had the general shape of a peacock, true, but the flowing tail curved in the wind and didn't look at all like the stiff fans a true peacock had. The head might have been bigger, too, though Gavin had trouble thinking of the details.

“I hope I get to see,” Millie sighed. “Was it pretty?”

“Very.” Gavin took a sip of the water Griffon had on the table. She frowned at him, batting his arm playfully.

“I don't give a crap about the bird, how was the date?” Geoff strolled in from the other room and ruffled Gavin's hair. “Are you guys going steady yet?”

“Geoff.” Gavin swiped at his hand. “If I ever had a date, I wouldn't tell you any sodding thing about it.”

Geoff shrugged and drank his beer. “Ask him out soon so I don't have to deal with all this sexual tension in the office.”

Gavin groaned. Millie giggled at him. She enjoyed when Geoff's teasing.

The words stuck in Gavin's mind more than he liked. He couldn't deny an attraction to Michael, but Geoff made it sound easy. Gavin never so much as approached a woman when he wasn't drunk, and that felt like the wrong way to go about things with Michael. Still. Constantly asking for his attention one way or another struck Gavin as slightly pathetic and a behavior that needed to stop.

His resolve flew out the window the next week.

Michael smiled at him, beamed in a way Gavin had yet to see from the lad in their months of working together. “Morning, Gav.”

“Morning, Michael.” He plopped in his chair, happy to see Michael in a good mood. “What're you so up about?”

“I got all my shit in my apartment and I'm not in Jack's house anymore,” he said simply.

“That's good.” Gavin swiveled in his chair. An idea struck him, a bit ludicrous considering they just had a night together. “So, um.” He tapped his fingers on his armrests. “Do you feel like celebrating?”

“Celebrating?” Michael paused in putting on his headphones. “How?”

Gavin shrugged. “Going out, getting a bev or two.”

For once, Michael didn't shoot him down immediately. He looked at Gavin, considering.

“I'd be up for a drink,” Geoff said from his seat. “We can all go out, have a little 'Michael's finally got his own damn house' party.”

“Don't forget 'and Jack's got his privacy back,'” Jack added, chuckling.

Gavin smiled hopefully at Michael. The redhead chewed his lip a moment, and said, “All right, sure. We can get a drink after work.”

What Gavin failed to remember was that Monday nights were dedicated to the podcast. Gavin shrugged in apology at Michael, who stared blankly when he mentioned the snag. They both agreed to postpone. So, that Tuesday, the Achievement crew went to a local bar to get smashed.

Gavin had a one track mind as he gulped down his drink. His mind swirled with the night he stayed at Michael's, Geoff's insistence on ending the lovesick puppy act, and the sight of the bird, seemingly engulfed in flames and sparking something in Gavin he wasn't sure he had.

He gazed at Michael while they drank, more and more unaware of how long the stares lasted. Eventually he asked, “What the fuck are you looking at, Gavin?”

Smart ass replies shot to Gavin's mind, settled on, “Something pretty,” with a smirk.

“Here we go.” Jack shook his head. “Drunk Gavin is on the move.”

Michael didn't scowl the way Gavin expected him to. He merely sipped his beer thoughtfully, ignoring the continued stares. Around the finish of his third drink, Gavin tipped none too gently over the point of no return, all concern for consequences flying as far as the bird he kept thinking of.

An idea hit Gavin like lightning. With a hop that made him stagger more than it should, he got out of the booth they sat in, gestured to Michael. “Come on,” he urged. “I wanna talk.”

Michael looked doubtful, but followed all the same. Jack and Geoff whooped at them as they wound their way through the crowd, until Gavin found a secluded corner and walked Michael to it. Country music blared in his ears. If he had another drink, Gavin would lose physical control with the mental, jumbling through the crowd and bumping several bodies. Still he waved Michael into the small space relatively free of people, smirked at him.

“What are you doing, Gav?” Michael glanced around them. “You're drunk as fuck,” he added in an accusatory tone.

Gavin thought of the bird again, the awe inspiring sight of it. He wanted Michael to know about it, to understand why Gavin was so impressed, but Michael didn't like birds. What he did like was pizza and video games and laughing about stupid shit and Gavin wanted it all. He leveled his gaze with the Jersey man.

“How would you feel about getting a dinner with me?” Bolder than Gavin expected, even in his state.

Michael frowned. “Okay, I guess. Why?”

Gavin shook his head vigorously. “No, no, Michael, you don't understand. Not dinner, I mean dinner. Together, just us.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Michael said, his tone biting. “Get to the point.”

“I am!” Gavin pointed a finger at him. “You're not listening. Dinner and a movie. Or something like that. A date, I mean, going out together.”

It clicked for Michael the moment Gavin said 'date,' a blush started creeping to his cheeks. Gavin hadn't seen that blush since the last time they went out. He wondered if Michael was more easily embarrassed after drinking or if it was pure coincidence.

“I-- I don't--” Michael stuttered, searching desperately for a way out. However, Gavin blocked his path and he didn't want to shove the man aside. “That's a bad idea, Gavin.”

“Why?” The Brit leaned in close, able to smell Michael from where he stood.

“Because-- dating isn't something I'm up for,” he tried.

Gavin could tell he lied even through the buzz. Michael was nothing if not honest. “Michael, please?” Gavin cooed, purposefully thickening his accent. “I want to try it. You and I get along, yeah? There's nothing to say we wouldn't be good on a date.”

Michael pushed himself up against the wall, bristled. “Sure, but--”

Gavin lost patience and coherent thought in the same moment. He put his hands either side of Michael and moved down, catching his lips in a sloppy kiss. They both tasted of alcohol. Michael went stiff. Gavin's hands went to his shoulders and held Michael there gently. He breathed deep through his nose, never realizing how sweet Michael smelled until then.

Michael should have punched him. Or pulled away. Or anything else, really, considering this was essentially assault. Instead he froze in the wake of the kiss, until he registered the feeling of Gavin's lips on his own, felt again when Gavin pulled back a bit and pressed forward once more, a tongue gently exploring the surface of the skin. Michael sighed without thinking, body loose and receptive. He touched the taller man's sides and reveled in the taste of him, bitter and heavy.

Gavin tugged back with an immense grin. “Sorry, mate,” he said as he dropped his hands. “But I've really wanted to do that. So, whaddya say? Dinner and a movie?”

Michael was thoroughly flushed, lips parted and panting. Never in a million years did he think shy little Gavin Free might kiss him. Apparently Drunk Gavin had a tad more courage. He bit back an insult at the smug look on Gavin's face. A solid, resounding 'no' danced on the tip of his tongue. Along with the taste of Gavin.

The Brit should consider himself lucky that the latter won out over the former. Michael brought up a hand and punched Gavin hard in the side.

“Ouf!” Gavin bent over and clutched his stomach. “Oi, what was that for?”

“For kissing me without asking,” Michael said, and smiled. “One date, stupid, and we'll see where it goes. If you get drunk and try to mack me again, I'm reporting you to Geoff for sexual harassment.”

Gavin stood up, still rubbing his sore spot. At the sight of Michael smiling, he grinned. “Okay, Michael.”

* * *

That week might have been the slowest and most nerve wracking Gavin experienced.

They agreed on Friday after work, for simplicity's sake. Michael and Gavin would go out to a nice local restaurant and see a movie afterward if they felt up to it. Each morning Gavin smiled at Michael, and Michael would smile back, but Gavin suspected he felt just as shy because the redhead quickly turned back to his work and kept himself attached to it.

Geoff and Jack teased endlessly, to say the least. Gavin had half a mind to beat them.

“How are the lovebirds doing?” Geoff asked the first morning after Gavin asked Michael out. It wouldn't be such a jab, except Gavin felt humiliated and regretted everything he did while drunk. He barely remembered their first kiss and certainly had no idea what he said to get Michael to agree to a date. When Michael asked, “So, which restaurants do you like?” on Wednesday morning, Gavin stood shock still because he thought the entire scenario had been a hungover dream.

Once the embarrassment faded, however, excitement built within him. He didn't often go on proper dates-- he preferred casual hang outs. The idea of dressing up and driving or walking somewhere nice sent little buzzes of electricity through his body. Gavin hadn't felt quite like this since he came to America for the first time.

He agonized over what to wear Thursday night. Gavin had to at least bring the clothes to the office to change, if not wear them to work. Griffon helped him pick out a decent polo and pants that didn't murder his muscles like the skinny jeans he once accidentally bought. He had little in the way of dress pants, though, and Griffon settled for a better pair of his jeans with a scowl. “This doesn't look like a date outfit in any way,” she complained, tucking the shirt and pants into Gavin's bag, folded neatly to prevent wrinkles.

“It's not--” Gavin swallowed hard. “It's not a big deal. Dinner and a movie, nothing huge.”

“But it's your first boy date!” Griffon cried, grabbing the sides of Gavin's face. He felt like a child, shook her off. “I want everything to go well,” she said, calmer.

“I'll be fine,” Gavin insisted. “Michael and I are friends. Nothing big will happen.”

Griffon snorted. “Be sure to text Geoff or me if something goes wrong.”

Her harried mothering aside, Gavin appreciated Griffon's thoughts. He wanted it to go well as much as she did.

Friday arrived, his clothes in his backpack and mind racing in a whirlwind. Gavin walked in the office expecting a normal hello to Michael, maybe a sheepish look of anticipation, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Michael took his headphones off and turned to him, eyes wide and optimistic. Gavin could barely look at them, staring at the top of his head.

His hair was gone. The long, bouncy curls no longer existed, in their place only a short, wavy crop. It was the shortest Gavin saw his hair since Michael arrived in Austin. At his look of shock, Michael reached a hand up to run through the tight coils. “Yeah, I, uh, cut it yesterday. The curls bug me sometimes.”

Gavin had no reply. He could only think that Michael looked much older, the musculature of his face stood out with no hair to hide it, and gulped.

Michael's face fell. “I'll probably grow it out again.”

“What?” Gavin shook his head, clearing his mind. “No, no, it looks good. Great, in fact. It's top.” He gave a reassuring smile. “I can't wait to see how it matches the rest of your look for tonight.”

A bold statement coming from Gavin. Michael blushed, as Gavin was starting to guess he did when someone else made the moves on him as opposed to vice versa. He sat down victoriously and flashed a confident grin. Michael practically shrunk into himself and replaced his headphones. “Thanks,” he muttered quietly.

Naturally, the day of the date had more teasing. If neither of them were occupied, or waiting for a video to render, Geoff and Jack conspired loudly on their suspicions of how the night would turn out.

“Personally I'm betting they fuck like rabbits,” Geoff said, with a glance at Gavin.

“Nah, they're too shy.” Jack chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up before I come over there,” Michael growled. “This is a work environment, try acting like it.”

Geoff and Jack burst into giggles. “Dude,” Geoff said, “we told you on day one that professional shit here is way different from other places. Besides, Jack and I are having a conversation.”

“About my love life while I sit two feet away!” Michael shot from his chair. “I'm serious, it's none of your business!”

That shut them up immediately. The two men stared at Michael, mouths open. Gavin wished Michael hadn't lost his temper, he was scary when he got seriously mad. But he also appreciated getting their coworkers to stop talking about them. It only made him antsy.

“Thanks, Michael,” he cooed after the redhead calmed and resumed his seat.

Michael smiled a bit. “I get business fucking done around here, Gavvers.”

The teasing stopped, though Geoff and Jack did insist on laughing between themselves. Gavin rolled his eyes whenever they did. Between that and work, the day passed slowly. When the clock hit five, Gavin saved his work and rushed to the bathroom to change. There, he stopped, stared at the mirror.

He never bothered much to attend to his clothes unless it was for a video. Gavin spent a few minutes fussing, tucking his shirt in and then pulling it out because it looked stupid. He smoothed his hair and ruffled it several times. Gavin stared another few minutes, as satisfied as he could be with himself, took a steeling breath, went back to the Achievement Hunter office.

Michael looked up when he came in, eyes moving up and down his body. “You look good,” he said.

Gavin nodded stiffly. “I suppose we should go soon.”

“Yeah.” Michael stood. “I'll go change too.”

Gavin side stepped to let Michael pass. The moment he left the room, Geoff moved to Gavin, touched him on the shoulder. Gavin stared at the wall, stuck on the image of himself in the mirror, wondering if he looked good enough for Michael.

“Hey, look at me.” Geoff grabbed his chin and guided Gavin's face to meet his eyes. “Let me know if anything goes wrong, all right? I know Michael hasn't been the friendliest around the office.”

Gavin pushed his hand away. “I'll be fine. Michael and I are friends.”

“Still.” Geoff frowned. “Tell me about any problems.”

“I will, I will,” Gavin said, and stepped around Geoff.

Jack stood and stretched. “As much as I want to see you two keep fumbling, I have to get home. Good luck, Gavin. Night, Geoff.” He patted Gavin's shoulder on his way out.

Geoff waited for the two of them, leaning against the wall next to Gavin's desk. The minutes ticked by, Gavin fingering his jean pockets. At five fifteen, Michael returned, nearly hitting Geoff when he swung the door open.

Gavin's breath hitched. Michael wore a deep blue button down and tan khakis, looking much more fit for a date than Gavin did. The shirt was a bit tight, hugging his frame. He looked at Gavin and shrugged. “I know, I look weird.”

“N-nah,” Gavin stuttered. “You look top.”

“All right, all right.” Geoff shoved off the wall. “Listen up, idiots. If this thing goes bad, the whole office will get awkward real fast. I want that about as much as you do. So.” He leveled his gaze with Gavin. “Call me the second an issue comes up.” Geoff turned to Michael. “He's like a stupid son to me, don't hurt him or I swear I'll break your skull.”

“Roger.” Michael gave a salute. “I'll have him home before midnight, sir.”

Geoff rolled his eyes. “Right, whatever. Have fun.” He moved past them and turned around in the doorway. “Be safe.”

“Yes, yes, we will.” Gavin waved him away. With a final look at both of them, Geoff disappeared into the hall. Gavin turned to Michael, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Sorry about him,” he said. “Geoff takes my safety seriously.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Michael said with a nod. “We should get out before someone else accuses me of breaking your heart.”

They decided on Ruby Tuesday's for dinner. Casual, but also nice enough for a date if need be. They walked and talked, Michael cracking more jokes and smiling more than Gavin remembered him ever doing in the last three months. The atmosphere felt light, promising.

“I swear I had a concussion,” Gavin said, recalling a tale from childhood. “I still worry that it messed me up.”

Michael chuckled and said, “No need to worry, I'm sure it messed you up.”

When they reached the restaurant and got to their table, Michael insisted they stay away from drinks, surprising Gavin.

“Do you really want to repeat the bar?” he asked. “One beer, and then you're cut off. I'd prefer we both remember tonight.”

Gavin whined, “Michael!” and received a kick in the leg. “My way or the highway,” Michael said. He returned to his menu unfazed. Gavin picked his up with a melodramatic whimper.

The food tasted great, but the conversation was better. Gavin quickly lost interest in his burger to listen to Michael talk about life in New Jersey as an electrician. “You sounded like you knew some stuff when you mentioned the wiring in your apartment,” Gavin mumbled lazily.

Michael stopped mid sentence to eye him. “You remember that?”

Gavin stuttered, shut himself up. Instead of laughing at him, Michael sniggered. “Wow. Anyway, yeah, work pretty much sucked and that's why I started making videos to put on YouTube.”

“Mm.” Gavin suddenly had an extreme appetite, shoving meat and buns into his face to hide his face. Michael laughed again, not a mocking sound, merely enjoying the mirth in their chat.

Filled to the brim with food and animated talk, they took their time leaving. Michael checked his watch at one point. “Holy shit, it's almost seven. We're gonna miss the show.”

“Bollocks.” Gavin shoved away from the table. He wanted to talk to Michael more.

They split the check and bolted to make the movie on time. Gavin didn't particularly feel like a movie, but the idea of sitting next to Michael longer and possibly holding his hand in a dark theater gave him butterflies in his stomach, even if they couldn't talk to each other during. The two men turned down a street and stopped at a crosswalk. Gavin kept his gaze on Michael, not bothering with the road.

That was a mistake.

By the time Michael's head whipped left and he shouted for Gavin to watch out, the biker couldn't stop and Gavin didn't even see the motorcycle before he got hit. He sure felt it, though, when his body hit pavement and skid a few feet. The entire world turned to a blur of gray asphalt and blue sky and he tumbled. Somewhere in the mix were strained voices, Michael's immediately recognizable by the accent. Gavin kept his eyes closed until he was sure he could see proper, and took in the scene.

A police officer jumped in right away. In a city like Austin they were never far. He said something into a walky talky and stepped up to the biker to ask about what happened. A crowd gathered around them and a few horns honked.

All of this came secondary. The first thing Gavin saw clearly was Michael, bent over him, speaking in a panicked tone. Eventually he could work out the words.

“--kill that prick, fucking Jesus, did he even bother to look?” Michael slung a number of curses, switching from concern to anger and back in a second. “Gavin, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay. I'll murder his ass, Christ! Gavin, please say something, just look at me, Gavvers, please.”

A long moment passed where Michael didn't say anything, and then Gavin felt truly worried because silence was the worst sign from his little boy. He put all his effort into speaking, and managed a cough. “Michael,” he said when he got his breath. “'M fine, Michael.”

“Oh, God,” Michael breathed with relief. He leaned closer to Gavin, brushed his hair from his forehead. “Thank God, Gavin, I thought you got concussed again.” Michael managed a tiny laugh.

Making jokes, surely a good sign. Gavin smiled, and swore at the ache in his face that brought him. “Hospital,” he said faintly. “We should go.”

“Right. Right.” Michael looked around. “Yeah, let's get you up.” He grabbed Gavin's hand and pulled. Gavin hissed at the pain, clutched his left arm. It took most of the blow when he landed. The cloth around it felt cut up, but Gavin didn't want to look. Michael gasped at the sight, though, and he couldn't resist checking it. Lifting the remains of his sleeve gently, Gavin gasped as well.

The asphalt tore into his skin. It was a wonder Gavin hadn't started crying from pain, perhaps due to adrenaline. Blood covered his sleeve and lower torso, pouring from a cut that spanned the entire upper half of his arm. Bile crept into Gavin's throat. If he didn't get treated soon, their nice dinner would be splayed on the crosswalk. “Right, let's go.”

“The paramedics will be here soon, I took the liberty of calling.”

Both men turned to look at the police officer. “You'd best sit down, sir,” he continued in a professional, yet concerned, tone, and gestured to Gavin's arm. “Raise it above your heart to slow blood flow and put pressure on the wound. Use your shirt for now, sir, I'll get gauze from my car.”

Gavin obeyed. Michael tucked himself under Gavin's good arm and helped him to the edge of the sidewalk. Around this time the pain finally hit him. Gavin seethed with each movement. Putting pressure on it with his shirt felt like fire in his skin at first, but it did help slow the blood. Gavin whimpered.

“I'm here, Gav.” Michael scooted as close as he could without jostling him. Gavin took comfort in his presence.

The police officer returned, wrapped an emergency band of gauze on the wound. While they waited for the ambulance, he asked a few questions, focused on if they saw the driver beforehand and if the light was green on the crosswalk. No and yes respectively, Michael told him. He asked Gavin as well with the same results. “Thanks,” the officer said, tucking his notepad in his shirt pocket. “Feel better, kid. The ambulance will be here soon.”

Not soon enough. It took fifteen minutes, the gauze utterly soaked with blood by the time they arrived. EMTs fussed over Gavin, tearing his shredded sleeve off along with the gauze, sterilizing the wound. They insisted he go to the hospital. Gavin didn't object, at first.

“Sir, only family members.” The female EMT put a hand up to stop Michael when he tried to climb in behind Gavin and her male coworker.

“Oh, come on!” Michael growled. “He's not having a heart attack! Besides, I can give information on the accident.”

She pursed her lips.

“Please,” Gavin piped up from inside the vehicle, his arm being handled by the other paramedic. “He's, uh, my brother.”

The lie was obvious in his voice. The EMT looked between him and Michael, sighed. “Fine, come on.”

Michael jumped in and sat on Gavin's right, clutching his hand. As the syringe of painkillers hit him and took the wound off his mind, Gavin registered the heat of his touch, couldn't help blushing. Michael smirked at the sight.

Talk about a first date gone wrong, Gavin thought. He kept his eyes on Michael, not wanting to watch stitches being sewn into his arm. He'd need to call Geoff. Oh, shit, Geoff.

“Michael? Can you get my phone and text Geoff for me?” Gavin winced at the thought of his reaction. His first date out with another guy and Gavin almost got killed. If they didn't work together, Geoff might never let him see Michael again. He still might find a way to do that.

In response to the text, Gavin's phone rang loud in the small ambulance. Michael picked up. “Before you say anything, don't shoot the messenger because I swear to God I'm not the one who got Gavin hurt.” As he said it, Michael glanced at Gavin, turned his gaze down.

Everyone in the vehicle heard Geoff shouting. The female EMT snickered at her partner, who was just finished the stitching in Gavin's skin.

“Okay-- yeah, I know I-- I tried, but-- Geoff, fucking listen to me!”

Gavin motioned for the phone. Michael gave it to him with a sigh.

“Geoff?” Gavin flinched at his volume. “Geoff, we weren't doing anything dangerous-- look, just meet us at the hospital, okay?” He hung up before Geoff could yell anything else at him.

The emergency room greeted them with a cacophony of noise. On a weekend night, the amount of people shouldn't have shocked them. Michael waited patiently while Gavin filled out a form with his good hand. Stitched and bandaged for now, Gavin wasn't high priority.

Geoff called a few minutes later to ask where they were. He found them in the emergency room with little trouble, pushing past doctors to get to them. Gavin could tell he wanted to scream, but the lack of privacy kept his mouth clamped shut. He only looked at Gavin's arm and asked about what really happened.

“I told you, it wasn't our fault.” Michael narrowed his eyes at the wall. “That biker had no idea what he was doing.”

Geoff was about to respond, but Gavin got called before they got too deep into argument. He stood and the two followed him to the doctor attending Gavin, an older man. They were led to a small room, where the doctor sat Gavin on the exam table and removed his bandages. He treated the wound with external antibiotic cream. Gavin hissed, the pain meds having worn off long ago.

“Keep it bandaged for the next couple weeks and minimize use of your left arm. Be sure to call about having the stitches removed.” The doctor scribbled on a prescription pad and handed the paper to Gavin. “This should stave off infection.”

“Thanks.” Gavin stared at his arm, newly wrapped in gauze and throbbing.

“It's busy tonight, so I'll leave you now. Check out at the front and take the prescription to any pharmacist, all right?” The doctor waved goodbye and left. The atmosphere in the room spiked as soon as he was gone.

“Geoff,” Michael said, cutting the man off the second his mouth opened. “Can Gavin and I have a moment alone?”

He glanced between the two, let out a long sigh, his rage finally fading. “I guess. I'll wait by the front. Don't do anything else stupid.” Geoff gave Michael a threatening look before he, too, left.

Alone once again, Gavin's heart sped a couple notches.

Michael turned to him, face scrunched together with worry. “I'm so sorry, Gav. I never meant for this to happen.”

“Michael, it wasn't your fault,” Gavin tried to assure him.

“Yes it was.” Michael breathed heavy, eyes cast down. “I saw him before he hit you, I should have pushed you out of the way.”

Gavin blanched, shook his head. “No, Michael, then you'd be hurt instead of me.”

“Yeah, but--” Michael stopped. His hands clenched at his side. “It wouldn't be as bad for me.”

Gavin's brow furrowed. “Nah, you'd be just as bad, maybe worse.”

“No, I wouldn't,” Michael insisted. He looked up and met Gavin's eyes. “Gav, I--” Michael stopped again. He bit his lip, considering something. Gavin waited for him to speak. A few minutes passed until he said, “Can you take off your bandages?”

“What?” Gavin frowned again. “I just got them on.”

“I know, just, please, I wanna see the wound.” Michael's eyes flicked between Gavin's face and his arm.

Gavin wanted to call him crazy, insist they should get back to Geoff before too much time passed. But something in Michael's eyes begged him to listen. Gavin looked at his arm, the heavy gauze and tight wrap preventing further blood loss. Opening it to look at would be rather morbid. Gavin faced Michael again.

“Okay,” he said warily. Gavin reached around until he found the place where the doctor tied his wrap, and undid the knot. The bandage fell away easily, coming off in layers until the cut itself was revealed. Both men cringed at the sight of it.

The cut ran from just under Gavin's shoulder to an inch above his elbow. The skin at the edges was worn and ragged from the asphalt scrapping it. The EMTs cut some of it with a scalpel in the ambulance, to help the flesh underneath heal together. The stitches held it tight. “Jesus,” Michael muttered. “I'm sorry, Gav.”

“Don't be,” he said, though the sight made him want to puke. His gag reflex was acting up already. Gavin coughed a bit, struggled to keep it down.

“Hold still,” Michael said, his voice suddenly strong. Gavin froze, both to obey and out of sheer surprise, as Michael took his lower arm in one hand and put his other gently on the skin next to his cut. He leaned his face close, inches away from the wound.

“What are you doing?” Gavin asked, nervous.

“Helping you.” Michael took a deep breath, closed his eyes. He opened them again almost immediately, and started blinking rapidly. Gavin watched with mild curiosity and concern. Michael kept breathing deep. Gavin's brow knit together as he stared, saw Michael's eyes getting wet. He was crying.

“Michael--” he tried again.

“Shush.” Michael kept blinking as his eyes got wetter, until the tears started to drip down his cheeks. Gavin squirmed. They would end up on his cut, and strange bodily fluids were the last thing anyone should have in an injury.

He held still anyway. Michael had a vice grip on his arm now, and trying to get away might hurt Gavin further. The tears kept coming until enough volume built for them to fall from Michael's face, dripping onto his skin. Gavin flinched.

What he didn't expect was the tingling feeling. Gavin looked at his arm, where the tears kept falling, straight on the stitches that held his cut. The tingling got stronger. “What's happening?” he said, voice strained. Gavin felt scared and amazed.

“I'm healing it,” Michael said, intensely focused. He kept crying for another minute, the tears falling in quick succession, spilling on the cut. Michael moved down as he did this, covering the entire wound. The tingling got stronger with each moment. Soon it felt like a burning sensation. Gavin squirmed again on the exam table.

Michael kept the grip on his arm and made Gavin sit still. This moment definitely took the cake for strangest event Gavin witnessed. He scrunched his eyes shut, his mind stuck on the burn. The tears ceased, Michael leaned back. Gavin refused to look.

As they waited, the burn began to fade. Another couples minutes and the feeling left Gavin altogether. He hesitated before opening his eyes. “What-- what was that?”

“Just look at your arm, dummy.”

Gavin did as Michael told him. His eyes went wide.

The wound that pulsed and bled only moments ago looked almost healed. The red edges of the skin were pale now, closer to Gavin's natural color. The ragged edges of the cut were smooth and closed together, the stitches barely necessary. The cut looked more like Gavin accidentally nicked himself with a knife, not skidded several feet across rough pavement. “If I had more time, I could do better,” Michael said, taking Gavin from his reverie. “But we should get back to Geoff. The stitches kind of prevent the skin from healing fully anyway.”

Gavin forgot entirely that Michael was the one who did that. He stared at him, mouth agape, tried to speak. “How in the-- you cried, and it-- What did you do?”

Michael ducked his head. “Don't tell anyone about this, please. It's something else I'd rather not talk about.”

Gavin wanted to refuse, to question Michael endlessly about how in the bloody world was it possible for his tears to heal him. He was right, though, Geoff would be getting impatient. Gavin resolved to ask Michael when they had more time and privacy.

They worked together to bandage his cut again. “It'll take a lot less time to heal. You might get some weird looks from the doctor when you get the stitches out,” Michael warned him.

“Yeah.” Gavin kept thinking about the cut, how it looked before and after Michael's treatment. That had to be superhuman, to be able to heal like that. His stomach churned the more he thought about it, and Gavin tried to shove the thoughts aside. Instead of freaking out about how Michael was some sort of wizard, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Sure, why?”

“Well.” Gavin hopped down from the table, his arm no longer throbbing madly. “You were crying, generally that's a bad sign.”

Michael shrugged. “I can do that on command. Come on, Geoff's probably worried.”

Worried and annoyed, it turned out. “What the fuck were you doing in there, making out?”

Gavin rolled his eyes and checked himself out of the hospital. They followed Geoff outside to the car. “I'll drive you home, Michael,” he offered tersely.

“Thanks.” Michael opened the door for Gavin and slid in beside him in the backseat.

A long silence passed, Gavin rubbing his arm, Michael staring out the window. Geoff coughed a couple times and glanced at them in the rear view mirror. “Hey, guys?” Neither man answered. Geoff sighed. “I'm sorry for yelling so much. You know I care about both of you. And Michael, I know this wasn't your fault.”

“Mm.” Michael looked at Gavin and back at the window. Gavin reached his right hand over his lap to take Michael's. The redhead clenched his hand and drew it away. Gavin frowned, upset, pulled his hand back.

Geoff stopped next to the sidewalk outside Michael's apartment complex. Before anyone moved, Gavin said, “I need another minute with Michael.” Geoff merely waved his hand, unable to muster the energy to care.

Gavin got out, Michael behind him with a sour expression. Gavin ignored it and took his hand, tugging him to the stairwell where Geoff wouldn't see them. “Okay, explain to me what you did in the hospital room.” Gavin looked him in the eye. “And don't tell me it's another secret.”

“It is,” Michael said, holding back his anger. “Sorry, Gav, but I can't tell you. You wouldn't want to know anyway.”

“Don't tell me what I'd like to know. That wasn't natural, Michael. Please, tell me what it was.”

Michael's hands curled to fists at his side. “It's personal.”

“I deserve to know!” Gavin protested. “You did the bloody trick on my skin, I should know if it's some weird chemical or something!”

“No, you don't!” Michael fought to keep his voice down, wary of Geoff listening from the car. “I promise you'll be fine. Let's leave it at that.”

Gavin reached with his good hand and grabbed Michael's. He held it tight. “I like you,” he said, his tone gentle. “I've wanted to get to know you since your first day here. If I didn't run when you first-- first healed me, I won't run if you tell me whatever this is that you're afraid to tell me.”

“Who says I'm afraid?” Michael yanked his hand away.

“Well, people generally keep secrets if they're afraid of people knowing the truth,” Gavin said.

Michael took a deep breath, calming himself. “Well, I'm not afraid. I just don't want everyone knowing everything about my fucking life.”

“But.” Gavin cocked his head and tried to smile. “You're my little boy, Michael. I thought we were friends. You can trust me.”

“Not with this.” Michael didn't soften an inch under Gavin's words. “It's private and I can't tell you. Show Geoff or whoever the wound, they won't believe I did it. Bye, Gavin.”

“Michael!” Gavin reached for him again when he turned around, not fast enough to catch the man before he got to the stairs and practically ran up them. “Michael, please!” he begged. He didn't want their first date ending like this.

Michael hesitated at the top of the steps. Hope burst in Gavin's chest. But the hesitation was only a second. Michael continued up the steps until Gavin could no longer see him, and the hope fell as soon as it appeared.

Whatever enabled Michael to help Gavin, it was another sore spot for him. He thought of the one other time Michael got noticeably upset, when they talked about the famous rogue bird.

Stuck between frustration and tears, Gavin's mind didn't connect the two events. He turned around and stomped his way to Geoff's car, slamming the door of the passenger side. Geoff looked at him curiously, said nothing, starting the engine to make their way home.

Millie and Griffon assaulted Gavin the moment he walked in the door.

“Gavvy!” Millie hugged him about the waist. “Daddy said you got hurt!”

“Are you okay?” Griffon glanced at the bandage on his arm with wide eyes. “Geez, what the hell happened? Do you need anything? Food, drink?”

“I'm fine.” Gavin pat Millie on the head and gently pushed her away. “I'm going to bed. See you in the morning.”

“Gavin!” Griffon called. He pretended he didn't hear her. Once in his room, Gavin locked the door and slid against the wood until he sat on the rug. Finally, his eyes watered and let loose the tears he should have spilled when the motorcycle hit him, the first tears he could remember letting out since he was a child. But these tears weren't for his injury. They were for Michael, the man Gavin knew now he had fallen completely in love with, and wished more than anything he could go back and apologize to, for prying into his life.


	2. The noise that surrounds me drowned out your voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin seeks the truth about Michael and gets more than he bargained for. Michael wishes he never met Gavin.

Saturday, Gavin's phone rang off the hook. Geoff talked to Burnie about the mess, and so the news spread among the staff instantly. Texts and voicemails expressing concern filled his inbox. Gavin deleted most of them without responding, except for one from Barbara, because it was hard to be cruel to her. However, his reply only said 'thanks,' and he refused to text her again when she asked him how he felt.

He hid in his room. Because the wound was no longer as bad as it had been, Gavin spent the day playing video games. Looking at the bandage reminded him of the night before, he kept his eyes off it as much as he could.

At dinnertime, Gavin's stomach growled too loud to ignore. He stepped out to meet the smells of roast pork and mashed potatoes coming from the kitchen. Griffon sat in the living room reading a book. “Hey, sweetie,” she said when Gavin wandered in. “Geoff's making dinner. Millie is at a friend's house, so you can get as upset as you like.”

Gavin grunted in response and plopped in an armchair. Her not so subtle hint for him to talk about what bothered him made him feel taken care of and boiling mad at the same time. Maybe food would fix it.

Dinner tasted blander than usual, not to say it wasn't still delicious, because Geoff cooked better than himself and Griffon combined. Gavin pushed the plate away after eating half of it and curled up in his chair. Geoff put his fork down. “All right, damn it, what's wrong with you?”

“I hurt my arm, Geoff. I'm not feeling the best,” Gavin mumbled.

“Yeah, right, but that's not it.” Geoff glared. “You're moping. Did Michael say something? Do I have to kick his ass after all?”

“No.” Gavin blushed at how quickly he answered and buried his face in his knees. “Leave it. I'll be okay.”

Geoff let out a long sigh. “Great, two upset babies to deal with. You know how many times I had to tell Michael to stop calling today?” He ran a hand over his face. Griffon squeezed his arm.

Gavin perked up from his hiding place. “Michael called?”

“About a dozen fucking times, yes.” Geoff looked at Gavin. “I was going to tell you when you stopped acting like a grouch.”

Gavin thought of all the unchecked messages on his phone. Had Michael tried him and he didn't notice? He thought the way Michael screamed at him, even when Gavin tried being nice and understanding. “Well, I don't want to talk to him,” he said resolutely, and hid his face again. “Michael can jump in a sodding pit for all I care.”

“So it is a fucking lover's quarrel,” Geoff said. “I knew it.”

Gavin glared, in a way he rarely did unless the entire world was pissing him off. Geoff backed down when he saw his expression, turned back to his food with another sigh. “Fine,” he said, “but let me know if you want to cut his head off or something so I can do it for you.”

The jokes weren't appreciated. Gavin dumped his plate on Griffon's empty one and left to hide in his room again.

* * *

At work, Gavin received all kinds of stares and comfort. He skipped the morning meeting to avoid the stares, ended up with a lot of it anyway. Kara fussed like Griffon had, asking Gavin if he needed anything. Gavin waved her off. Burnie and Gus said they were glad he hadn't died. Matt asked with slight awe if he could see the wound.

“No,” Gavin said quickly. He gulped at the look Matt gave him. “Hurts too much,” he said, and dashed to the office before anyone else asked him about it.

“Jesus,” Jack said when he saw the bandage. “How fast did you hit the fucking pavement?”

“Enough to keep me in this for six to eight weeks.” Gavin plopped in his chair, more focused on the empty one beside him than Jack's questions. Michael wasn't around, and Gavin didn't know if he felt relieved or upset.

The conflict got worse a moment later. The door opened and Michael walked in late, cup of coffee in one hand. Gavin looked away before their eyes met, but felt the need to do a double take and confirm what he saw, peeking at Michael when the redhead's attention went to his work.

As Gavin thought, Michael had heavy bags under his eyes, lids falling every few seconds. He looked like death.

“What happened to you?” Jack asked, unaware of the tension between Michael and Gavin. Geoff made a throat slicing motion. Jack raised an eyebrow.

“No sleep,” Michael muttered in reply.

Per Geoff's advice, Jack kept quiet the rest of the day. The four worked in silence. Gavin couldn't help glancing at Michael every few seconds. Once, Michael looked back and they locked eyes. Gavin opened his mouth to say something. Michael turned away before he could, and Gavin gave up.

It wasn't fair. Gavin should be hurt and betrayed. Instead he wanted to apologize and beg Michael's forgiveness, for . . . what? Not answering his calls? Maybe, Gavin thought, his mind unable to focus on his editing. It was a rather dick move.

Michael didn't want to go out for lunch. Neither did Gavin, but the option of being left here with Michael appealed little, and he followed Geoff out the door. He sulked all through the meal, barely touching his pizza.

Geoff said nothing. “How's your arm?” he asked once.

“In pain,” Gavin lied. It hadn't hurt much since Michael healed it. He didn't want to think about that.

Thankfully, Michael wasn't around the office very long.

He took a trip to Los Angeles, vanished from Rooster Teeth the next day. He had told Gavin about the trip when he helped Michael move in. At the time Gavin thought he would miss him.

The office felt emptier without Michael's rage and laughter. Gavin lost the stress of feeling guilty all the time and gained the stress of wondering how Michael was doing, if their squabble ruined his minor vacation. By the end of the next week Geoff repeatedly had to tell Gavin to focus and get his work done.

The late November Monday Michael was due back, Lindsay approached Gavin with an unexpected request.

“Prank him?” Gavin asked as he washed his hands clean in the kitchen sink. He just finished lunch, ready to get some work done. Michael's absence had only just started to feel like less of a problem for him.

“Yeah.” Lindsay grinned. “He's way into those My Little Ponies, so I thought we could do something with them. You know, as a welcome home gift.”

Two weeks ago Gavin might be excited about that. “I dunno,” he said, drying his hands on a towel. “Michael might get minged off.”

“Duh, that's the point.” She rolled her eyes.

Gavin narrowed his own. Lindsay knew as well as anyone else that he and Michael weren't getting along, ever since the disaster of a date. Most of them blamed it on Gavin's accident because he refused to tell anyone the real reason.

“How would you even get in?” Gavin asked, intending to stump her.

“Jack has a key,” she said with a shrug. “Michael gave it to him for emergency purposes while they were moving stuff around. We can borrow it and sneak in.”

Damn, foiled. Gavin frowned. “What, exactly, would you be doing with Michael's toys?”

Lindsay gave him a wicked grin. “You'll see.”

* * *

Gavin didn't want to see. Lindsay, however, refused to let him back out. “You're his best friend,” she protested. “I need you to supervise this and make sure Michael has a lovely welcoming gift.”

It was a scheme to get him and Michael to stop fighting, Gavin knew it. Still, Lindsay wouldn't stop insisting throughout the day. Michael was due back that evening. Gavin tried to escape to the office and Lindsay followed him. When Geoff heard the idea, he was surprisingly supportive.

“You idiots haven't spoken in forever. This'll be like an ice breaker.”

“Geoff,” Gavin whined. “Michael's gonna find out and kick my ass.”

“Oh well. Do it anyway. You need to do some pranking. Well Behaved Gavin is a creepy Gavin.”

The Brit couldn't exactly argue that. He refrained from all mischievousness at home and at work with his injury and, honestly, he felt a bit bored. Gavin looked at Lindsay, who grinned like a cat with a canary. “Fine,” Gavin said. “I'll help you pull a bloody prank on Michael.”

Lindsay cheered. Jack gave her the key post haste and Geoff gave them permission to sneak away for a couple hours to set it up. She grabbed the Fluttershy figure from Michael's desk before tugging Gavin up from his chair by his good hand.

The smell of Michael in his apartment made Gavin's heart cringe. He really did miss him. It might be time to apologize and make up, he thought, while Lindsay bustled around with the supplies she bought from the general store in a plastic bag. Jello, a single spoon, a bowl, and a cheap plate. She dove into Michael's bedroom when everything was set on the counter and brought out another Fluttershy figurine.

“He's gonna hate you,” Gavin said as she set both ponies down on the kitchen counter.

“Hate us,” she corrected. “Can you fill the bowl about halfway with water?”

Gavin followed her instructions, helped Lindsay make a small jello mold in their bowl. According to the packet, the jello needed an hour to chill. They went back to work, a short drive, and waited. When the hour was up, Lindsay dragged Gavin back to complete their plan. “Fill the bowl with water again,” she told him.

The water sat atop the jello, tinged greenish yellow. Gavin moved the bowl with his good hand, unsure of what she was doing. He had never been a huge fan of jello and knew only of being able to put fruit in it.

“Now, we insert these,” Lindsay said, tying the ponies together with a scrunchie, “into the bowl.” She dropped them unceremoniously in the water. They bounced on the jello beneath the fluid. “And add more jello.” She dumped a second packet of powder in, stirring it with the one spoon she bought. “And freeze it again.”

Gavin put the bowl in Michael's freezer. “So the ponies will get stuck?”

“That's the idea. And we can flip the jello onto this plate.” She hefted it off the counter. “Voila, pudding a la pony.”

Gavin snickered despite himself at the mental image of Michael coming home to a plate of jello encased Fluttershys.

They scrambled back to work. Shortly before five Lindsay gave him another ride to the apartment, the jello fully frozen and containing trapped ponies. They wrote on a printed note Lindsay got from the office, rather insulting for Gavin's taste, and signed it with their names. Lindsay did the work of flipping the jello on the plate over the sink while Gavin watched. It came out rather messy, the two layers of jello not meshing quite well enough. It looked fine for their purposes.

Lindsay took Gavin home in her car. “We'll hear about what Michael thinks tomorrow,” she said, with yet another grin, as she walked him to the doorstep.

Gavin ran a finger up and down his bandages. “He won't be as pleased as you.”

Lindsay stopped smiling and, to his surprise, hugged Gavin tight around his neck, careful to avoid his arm. “You and Michael will be okay.”

Hesitantly, Gavin returned the hug with his good arm, clasping Lindsay on the back.

She pulled away and looked him in the eye. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gavin frowned and stepped backward towards the door. “Not really.” The night of their fight played in his mind again. The more Gavin thought about it, the more he knew he was just as at fault as Michael. “I don't want Michael keeping secrets from me,” he said before he stopped to think about it. “He can choose not to tell me stuff,” he continued, “but he hinted at something really important and then refused to tell me the truth behind it.”

Lindsay's brow knit together, unsure. “Well,” she said, “if Michael is anything, it's honest. He wouldn't keep a secret unless he had good reason.”

Superhuman healing powers were a fairly good thing to want to hide, Gavin thought.

She hugged him again, gentler this time. “It'll be all right. If Michael hinted at it, he probably wants to tell you and just isn't sure. I can't say anything definite.” Lindsay rubbed his hair affectionately. “Talk to him next time you see him.”

Gavin nodded. “Thanks, Lindsay.”

“Anytime, Gavin.” She smiled again before turning back to her car. Gavin stood under the awning of Geoff's doorstep and watched her go. A moment later the door opened, Millie stood on the other side.

“Gavvers?” She peered up, eyes full of curiosity. “Why are you standing here alone?”

“Hey, Millie.” Gavin stepped inside and shut the door. “I was thinking about some things.”

Millie cocked her head. “Where'd you go? Daddy came home by himself.”

Explaining his prank, part of Gavin's mind stayed on Michael. He should apologize tomorrow at work, maybe ask Michael to lunch.

As far as their romantic life, Gavin couldn't be sure where they went from there.

* * *

“Mother. Fucker.”

Gavin's head snapped up at the sound of Michael's agitated voice. The redhead stood in the door, eyes practically aflame. “I saw your little jello prank,” he sneered. “I already thanked Lindsay. Your turn.”

He stomped over and yanked Gavin by the neck of his polo. Gavin squawked. Ignoring the looks from Jack and Geoff, Michael tugged Gavin out the door, down the hall, into the kitchen. No one was there at the moment, meaning no one would catch whatever Michael was about to do to him. Gavin struggled a bit, to no avail. Michael released Gavin's shirt and corned him against the counter, one hand either side of his body to trap him.

“Michael--” Gavin started.

“I'm sorry,” Michael said, interrupting him.

Gavin blinked, processing his words. “What?”

Michael sighed, drew back to free him. “I'm sorry about what happened before. On our date. I didn't have a right to get that angry with you.”

And here Gavin meant to apologize for invading Michael's privacy. He straightened his stance. “I'm sorry too, Michael.” He couldn't bring himself to meet Michael's eyes. “I probably got more upset than I should have.”

“No, you didn't.” Michael ran a hand through his short curls. “I showed you something unnatural. I'd want to know what was up, too.” He looked at Gavin, took a heavy breath. “Do you still want to know about that?”

Gavin had to think that over. Lindsay was right; if Michael wanted to keep something from him, he would have good reason. “Is there a reason I shouldn't know?” he asked.

Michael hadn't expected that, looked away. “Probably a few.”

“Then let's forget it for now.” Gavin did his best to smile. “You can tell me when and if you feel ready, okay, Michael?”

Michael hesitated, and gave a small smile in return. “I will tell you, Gav,” he said with resolution. “Just . . . not yet.”

“Right, then.” Gavin paused, licked his lips. “So, uh, how about a second date?”

Michael frowned. “I don't know, Gav. Is that a good idea?”

“Well,” he said, “I figure the odds of me getting hit by a motorcycle again are pretty slim, and maybe the date could end on a good note for a change.”

That made Michael smirk a bit. Gavin smirked right back, moving close. “What do you say?”

Michael surprised Gavin by tilting his head and pecking a quick kiss to his lips. “I say, why the fuck not.”

Their coworkers noticed the restoration of the norm immediately. Geoff and Jack relaxed visibly when the two returned, laughing the way they had before their blow out. Lindsay did a victory dance when Gavin passed her in the hall and told her the good news. “Oh, Michael said he thanked you for the prank,” Gavin said before she walked away. “What did he do?”

She shrugged. “He thanked me, actually, albeit with a ton of sarcasm. Apparently he needed some dishes in his new place and the plate and spoon were helpful.”

At least Michael wasn't idiot enough to hurt a woman. Or maybe it was because Gavin was infuriating enough to warrant being yanked from his chair. Either way, he wasn't mad about the prank and their friendship was back on track. Gavin couldn't help feeling amazing the rest of the day.

Come the end of work, Gavin closed out, got ready to leave with Geoff. Michael, however, had other plans.

“Let's go,” he said, jumping up and motioning for Gavin to follow.

“What?” Gavin glanced between him and Geoff. “What do you mean?”

Michael gave him a look like Gavin forgot something obvious. “Our date, moron.”

Gavin flushed red. “I didn't think you meant tonight.”

The redhead rolled his eyes and grabbed Gavin's hand. “Yeah, I meant tonight. We're eating out again.”

“Don't go near the crosswalks,” Geoff warned, half joking and half serious.

“Got it, boss.” Michael saluted with his free hand. “Let's go, Gavvers.”

Despite the suddenness, Gavin did as told. They left the building hand in hand, garnering a few looks and snickers from the coworkers that saw them leave. Michael tightened his hand around Gavin's, as though reassuring him. Or maybe he was reassuring himself, Gavin thought.

Gavin had a longer pace than Michael, being taller, and had to slow to match him. He fixed his eyes on Michael's feet, making a game out of matching his steps, right and left feet moving identically.

“What are you doing now?”

He looked up to find Michael narrowing his eyes. “Nothing,” Gavin said sheepishly, returning to his normal walking pace.

Michael snorted. “Weirdo,” he muttered, and squeezed Gavin's hand again.

Neither were dressed for a date, so they went somewhere casual, one of the many burger places in town. Seating didn't take long. Michael finally released Gavin as they sat, and picked up his menu. He made his decision quickly, set it back down, instead watching Gavin choose his food.

The staring made him squirm. Gavin set the menu to the side. “Please, Michael, I feel like you're scrutinizing me.”

“Maybe I am,” Michael challenged. “I need to make sure you're proper boyfriend material.”

“You should have decided that on the first date,” Gavin shot back, chuckling.

“Well, I was gonna test your ability to make out during our movie, but that got cut short, didn't it?”

“You're not gonna get to test that by staring at me, either.” Gavin returned to his menu and tried to ignore the continued look from Michael.

The thrill and nerves of the first date didn't hit Gavin so hard this time around. Michael kept flashing him secret smiles and knowing looks, seducing him using only facial expressions. Gavin's heart beat faster every minute.

He barely paid attention to his food when it arrived. “How was the trip to L.A.?”

“Pretty good,” Michael said through a bite of burger. “I, um. I kinda missed you.”

Gavin tapped his fingers against his leg. “I missed you, too.”

With no movie to attend, they sat long after they finished dinner, sipping cold drinks, talking about Michael's trip. The waitress came to ask about dessert. Gavin opened his mouth to say no, Michael cut him off.

“Yeah, sure, we'll have some dessert.”

The waitress handed them a small menu. “I'll be back in a minute.”

Gavin pursed his lips. “I thought you said the burger filled you up.”

Michael smirked, playfully waving the menu. “Well, mostly I didn't want to pick up the check yet. But I also hear their cake is pretty good.”

Gavin didn't intend to get dessert. When Michael ordered it, however, Gavin piped in that he wanted one of the same slice of chocolate cake. The waitress took the menu and left to put the order in. Gavin grinned at the look Michael gave him.

It was somewhere near eight when they left. Gavin couldn't remember the last time he took that long eating dinner that wasn't at a fancy party. The time flew by with Michael. Gavin pulled his phone out to call Geoff for a ride. “Hey,” Michael said, putting a hand on his phone. “Let's go for a walk.”

The night was warm, usual weather for Austin. It would settle some as winter got closer. Michael and Gavin walked side by side on the pavement. Shortly after they started, Michael reached out and took Gavin's hand again, his palm hot. Gavin squeezed his fingers tight around Michael's.

They went vaguely in the direction they walked from, back to the office and toward Michael's home. Silence stretched between them, no words needed for either to enjoy the bustling calm of the city. “Michael?” Gavin said as they passed Rooster Teeth.

“Yeah?”

“You don't have to worry about telling me anything about yourself.” Though they settled the matter earlier, Gavin still felt guilty for prying into Michael's life. “It's okay if you never explain it.”

Michael glanced at the bushes planted next to the sidewalk. “I told you, I'll let it out eventually.”

They went silent again, enjoying the feel of their hands together. The heat coming off Michael made Gavin think of the bird he saw, with its fiery colors, the first night he stayed with Michael. He wished idly that he could see it again.

“Gavin?”

He looked up. They had reached Michael's apartment without him realizing it. “I guess this is where we say goodbye.” Gavin tried to take his hand back.

Michael held firm. “Do you wanna spend the night?”

The answer was a resounding yes in Gavin's mind. He bit his lip as he thought it over. “I don't know if we should, you know, do . . . that.” Gavin bemoaned his failing vocabulary at such a critical moment.

The Jersey man knew what he meant. “We don't have to sleep together, Gav. I just don't want you to leave yet.”

Affection bloomed in Gavin's chest. “O-okay then.”

Despite his assurance that they needn't have sex, Michael moved close to Gavin the moment the door was shut, their lips colliding and pressing with wet heat. Gavin inhaled his scent like he had with their first kiss, all the better now that they didn't reek of beer. Michael brought his hands up to tangle in Gavin's hair, and Gavin returned to action by wrapping his arms around Michael's waist. His left arm stung at the sudden movement. Gavin couldn't care less.

Their lips slid across each other and teeth quickly entered the mix, teasing and tasting and trapping each other. Michael slid his tongue in Gavin's mouth easily, groaning at the taste that was purely Gavin, while the aforementioned man pawed at his shirt, as though wishing it away would make it disappear. “Gavin--” Michael yanked himself away, panting. “How-- how far do you want this to go?”

Gavin paused, tried to regain some of his senses. That Michael bothered to stop and ask meant he took Gavin's words to heart. He was ready to call if off the moment Gavin felt uncomfortable. “No shagging tonight,” Gavin said, as tempting as the sight of Michael with red lips and disheveled hair was. “But some macking and maybe the absence of shirts would be brilliant.”

Michael grinned and removed his shirt immediately. Gavin did the same and their lips crashed together again. Michael tugged them slowly backwards to the bedroom, never leaving Gavin. His hands ran up and down his back, over his shoulders. Eventually he moved to kiss Gavin's jaw and neck, turning the knob on his bedroom door, walking them inside. Gavin had to use Herculean effort to tear himself from Michael and situate himself on the bed. Shoes and socks off, belt gone, done. He didn't care if he slept in his jeans, there was no way he was leaving Michael to change into pajamas.

Michael did the same and climbed into the bed with Gavin, laying so they were side by side, staring at each other. They resumed kissing, though Michael quickly went back to devouring Gavin's skin.

“I'm gonna burn up,” Gavin said with a laugh. Every inch of Michael touching him felt almost like an open flame.

Michael stopped, drew away, brow knitting together. “I can keep a distance, if you want,” he offered in an apologetic tone.

Gavin stared at him, and laughed again. “Fuck no, get over here, you pleb.” He wrapped his arms around him and tugged Michael close, pressing kisses to his temple. The words 'I love you' bubbled to the forefront of his mind, having sat there since their fight. Gavin shoved them away because this was only their second date and he wasn't about to screw it up by getting all sappy and romantic.

Michael buried his face in Gavin's neck and stroked his chest. “Are you growing a carpet?” he muttered into the skin. “All I see is hair.”

“Ah, sorry about that.” Gavin moved to his ear and bit the lobe gently, drawing a moan from Michael. “Not much I can do about it.”

“Mm, it's fine.” Michael nosed his chest a moment, and took a nipple in his mouth. Gavin gasped. Girls never did that do him, the feeling was unexpected. If his cock wasn't hard before, it certainly would be now.

Another few moments of this, Gavin mouthing Michael's earlobe and jawline, occasionally gasping at the feeling of Michael playing with his nipples and kissing him through his chest hair, their legs tangled together, and Michael got bored. He pushed off from Gavin with a grunt and grabbed his arms. Gavin yelped when he got flipped from his side to his back. The redhead sat on him victoriously, dimples adorning the smile Gavin loved so much.

Michael rolled his hips. Their cocks ground together, eliciting loud groans from them both. His hands found Gavin's and moved them above his head. Michael leaned in to give Gavin the same treatment he got, while continuously pushing their hips together. Gavin felt he might explode. Michael's tongue left hickeys on his neck and collarbone, evidence of just who Gavin belonged to, electricity shot up his spine with each thrust of Michael's hips.

“Ah,” Gavin gasped at a particularly hard bite, “M-Michael, maybe we should slow down?”

Michael paused. “Too much?”

“Not nearly enough,” Gavin said with a chuckle, “but if we keep it up I'm not gonna be able to stop myself.”

The change was instantaneous. Michael drew back and shifted so he wasn't sitting on Gavin anymore. “You good?” he asked as he released Gavin's hands and started to pet his chest, not erotic, but affectionate.

Gavin breathed hard and sat up. “Yeah, no, I'm fine. I don't want to rush things, that's all.” He gulped, gave Michael a small smile. “We only got over that fight today. I'd like to get to know you some more before we shag each other silly.”

Michael laughed. “I don't see how we could know each other better at this point, but okay. Whatever you want.”

Gavin couldn't tell Michael what he really thought, that there was one thing about Michael he really wanted to know before he risked the kind of intimacy he knew would grow if they got physical with each other. He merely said, “Thanks,” and laid back on the bed, opening an arm in invitation.

“Hang on.” Michael kicked off his jeans. Gavin stared a moment before shaking his head clear and doing the same. Sleeping together on a hot Austin night, especially with Michael's internal temperature, would serve him better if he had minimal pajamas.

Gavin held his arm open again and Michael curled under it, throwing his arm over Gavin's chest. “Hey, how's the bandage?” he asked, peering at the arm Gavin wound under Michael's neck so he could stroke the hair at the back of his head.

“Fine,” Gavin said. “Hurts a lot less, thanks to you.”

“Good.” Michael snuggled into Gavin's neck. “Too hot?”

“Nah.” Gavin moved a leg to hook Michael's foot over it. “Goodnight, my little Michael.”

“Night, Gavvy Wavvy.”

* * *

Waking up that morning was near euphoric. Gavin was sweating a storm from the human furnace next to him, but the look on Michael's sleeping face made it worth it. Gavin kissed his forehead and slipped from the bed, glancing at the clock that Michael put on the floor because he still didn't have a bedside table. Half past six. They wouldn't need to be up for work anytime soon. Gavin bent down to pick up his jeans and rummaged through the pocket for his phone.

Six messages and two missed calls from Geoff. Gavin left the room to call him back.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Geoff said when he answered. “Why are you calling this early? Are you okay?”

“Tippy toppers, Geoff.” Gavin rummaged in the fridge for food; he found leftover pizza and Chinese. “Slept at Michael's. Sorry for not calling or anything.”

“Let me know next time,” he growled. “I don't want to worry sick about you.”

“Got it.”

Geoff promptly hung up. Gavin sighed at his phone, and prepared a slice of pizza for himself.

The television was new, he noted, as he sat in one of the two folding chairs in the living room. The third chair had the TV carefully balanced atop it, a forty something inch flat screen. Gavin thought about turning it on, saw the remote lying against the wall across from him, shrugged the idea away.

He went back to bed after eating. Michael woke briefly, only to snuggle closer to Gavin. The Brit nearly laughed at how calm and cute he was. He never would have pegged Michael as the cuddly type.

The alarm went off at eight. Michael opened his eyes proper and jumped at the sight of Gavin. “Jesus, I forgot you stayed,” he muttered as he got up and stretched. They both showered, Michael first and Gavin next, and Michael followed Gavin's idea of pizza for breakfast. “I should be getting more furniture soon,” he said. “All my shit got backordered. That's not even my TV, I'm borrowing it from Jack.”

“Right.” Gavin leaned forward against the kitchen counter. A question popped into his mind, and he looked at Michael.

“What?” he asked with his mouth full.

Gavin swallowed hard. “Um. Are we . . . are we boyfriends now?”

Michael finished his mouthful and gave Gavin an unreadable expression. “Do you want to be?”

“Well.” A blush crept into his cheeks. “Maybe,” Gavin mumbled.

He was pulled into a sudden kiss across the counter by Michael's hand around the back of his head. His lips tasted of tomato and bread, and he smiled at Gavin as he pulled away, laughing. “Then I guess we're boyfriends.” Michael kissed him again with less force, hands tangling in his hair and tongue pressing into his mouth.

Definitely one of Gavin's best mornings.

Everyone at work shot them meaningful looks. Michael returned and he and Gavin were better than normal. It was what everyone wanted; the atmosphere wasn't the same if they weren't getting along.

And get along they did. If the teasing was obvious before, it was worse now. Gavin spent all of their first day together pestering Michael endlessly, no longer afraid of the consequences should he go too far. At one point, Michael wrestled with him again to shut him up. Gavin couldn't stop giggling through his begs for mercy.

Most days were like that. They recorded videos and messed about at work. Gavin sometimes went home with Geoff and occasionally stayed the night with Michael. The men fell into an easy rhythm of affection and roughhousing.

November turned to December. With the office almost as pleasant as home, Gavin felt the time flying by. Early in December, Geoff dragged Michael to his desk for the start of a Let's Play series. “We're gonna try doing this shit on the regular,” he said. “People like our commentary for game guides, I figure they might enjoy us playing the game in real time.”

This provided extra temptation for Gavin, watching Geoff and Michael play Saints Row the Third from the corner of his eye while he worked. He could swear Michael's hair looked brighter when he got his energy up, yelling and sighing at Geoff's refusal to use proper weapons. Gavin wondered if the red hair was more of an attraction than he first thought.

The Let's Play was popular, more so than they thought it would be. Comments on YouTube suggested new games for them to try. Michael and Geoff high fived at the successful venture, but soon dreaded their recording sessions because the campaign for the game was long, and fans demanded they see it through.

Along with this, Geoff kept talking about Ray Narvaez Jr. “We're gonna try and get him up here next year,” he told the Hunters one afternoon. “He's doing great work right now. I think he'll be a good addition.”

“Do you think that's a good idea, Michael?” Gavin peered across his desk at him.

“Yeah, Ray's awesome.” Michael knew the man more than he did. “We do the Internet Box podcast together, I told you that.”

Which he had, because he complained Gavin took him away on Saturday nights when they usually recorded it. Gavin just shrugged and kissed Michael when he brought it up, as though he were powerless to stop it.

As the weeks passed and Christmas neared, however, Gavin got more and more antsy about their new relationship.

For one thing, he had to go back home for the holidays. Gavin bought his plane ticket months ago. Michael was going back to Jersey to visit his family as well. “No gifts necessary,” Michael told him when the subject came up. “We just started dating. Don't feel pressured.” Gavin didn't feel pressured, but he did hate the idea of being apart from Michael again. The week he spent in L.A. was awful enough.

The major worry on his mind, though, was the secret Michael kept.

Gavin went in to get his stitches taken out a few days before he was scheduled to leave for England. The doctor stared at his cut as he cut the gauze away. “It looks better than I expected. You're lucky.”

It only served to remind Gavin of the incident in the hospital and Michael's healing tears. He was torn between wanting to know the truth and trusting Michael to tell him when he felt ready. It was part of the reason Gavin said no when things got too heavy in bed; they would tumble on the mattress, touch and kiss and paw at each other. Gavin actually squeaked the first time he saw Michael completely naked. But when they got close to actually fucking, he thought about that night and their fight and his chest felt like it had a million weights on it and he had to stop.

Something about it didn't seem right.

The day before Gavin left for home, and they were laying in bed in each other's arms, Gavin decided to ask about it before he got too chicken. “Michael?” he said, the way he often started conversations between them.

“Yeah?”

“Are you mad at me for not sleeping with you?” Gavin hedged, why did he hedge, he was a complete coward.

Michael lifted his head to look him in the eye. “I'll admit, I thought we'd get to it by now.” He laid his head back on the pillow. “But no, I'm not mad.”

“There's, um, a reason I don't want to.” There, he said it. Gavin wondered if doing this the day before he left was a bad idea. Too late now, he supposed.

“Why?” Michael sounded mildly interested and somewhat sleepy.

“I'm . . . not sure if we should, since I don't, um. Since I still don't know about what you did to my arm.” God, he felt like a sod. It sounded so much worse out loud.

Michael lifted his head again, this time with a knit brow. “How are those two things connected?” His voice wavered a bit. Gavin wanted to kick himself in the stomach.

“I'm not sure.” Gavin sat up and inched away. “Maybe, like . . . I want to know the important stuff before we have sex. And that seems pretty important.”

Michael turned on his back. “I'll tell you someday, Gav.”

“But when?” He looked down at Michael. “The waiting is killing me.”

“Why the fuck does it matter so much?” Swearing, a sign Michael was getting impatient.

“Because--” Gavin sucked in a breath. “Because I love you, you damn idiot, and superhuman healing powers are something I'd like to know about the man I love.”

He hadn't meant to say that. Oh, God, Gavin never meant to say that. He wanted to wait until Michael said it first, until they dated longer, he fell in love so rarely, damn it this was going to ruin everything. Gavin froze in his spot on the bed. Michael stared at him.

Slowly, Michael sat up, keeping his gaze on Gavin. “You love me?”

Gavin couldn't breathe. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Michael looked away. His hands clenched the bedsheets. “And you've been holding off on sex because you want to know about what I did?”

“I-- I want to know that you trust me.” It didn't make sense even to Gavin, because sex was great and it never mattered much beyond pleasure with his other relationships. “I've thought about-- about being with you a long time, and they always say couples shouldn't keep secrets-- ugh,” he sighed, head dipped low. “Sorry, I sound stupid.”

“No.” Michael reached out and held his hand. “I get it.” He paused a long time, silence hanging between them like a thick fog. “If I promise to tell you when you get back from England,” Michael finally said, “would you feel better?”

Gavin lifted his head, surprised. “A-are you sure?” He wished he could rewind time; he didn't want Michael to feel pressured.

“Yeah, I am.” Michael squeezed his hand gently.

The Brit gulped and considered Michael's offer. “I would be very happy if you decided to tell me,” he said cautiously, “and I still say it's okay if you don't.”

“Well, I kind of have to, if you're withholding sex from me.” Michael smirked.

“I didn't mean to!” Gavin blushed. “I never connected them like that, it's just-- every time we were in bed I kept thinking about it and then I wasn't up for sex anymore so I stopped-- shut up!” he said when Michael started laughing.

With that matter settled, they calmed and laid back down on the bed. Michael didn't say any more on the subject, going quiet and tracing lines into Gavin's chest. Gavin held him close, not caring how hot he got. “Maybe you should see a doctor for that,” he mumbled.

“What?”

Gavin shook his head. “Nothing. Let's go to sleep, I have to get up early.”

* * *

England was as cold and rainy as Gavin remembered. He made no mention of Michael to his family, as they had no idea he was interested in men as well as women to begin with, and tried to distract himself with holiday festivities. His brother asked him about his life in America. His mother fussed. His dad sat around with a book and barely spoke to them. They had the traditional celebration, a tree with cookies and presents. Gavin smiled at the new camera his parents bought him when he opened the box. Nothing fancy, just a small digital you could pick up at the store, but he had complained to his parents about taking pictures using only the basic camera in his phone. It warmed his heart to know they listened to him.

“A motorcycle accident, really?” his mother gasped, as Gavin told the story the day after he arrived. They wanted to know all about Austin, and that was the most exciting tale Gavin had to tell. He omitted the bit about going on a date with Michael, replacing it with a dinner with the Ramsey's.

“I wasn't looking,” Gavin said, shrugged. “My bad.”

“At least your arm looks good now,” his father said from behind a newspaper.

Gavin glanced at his left arm. The wound was near healed by now, a thin scar left in its wake. He remembered Michael's promise, wondered how in the world his boyfriend would explain the phenomenon.

A week in England was hardly worth the expense of the tickets, but it was nice to see his family all the same. They dropped Gavin at the airport on January 2nd, distributing hugs and kind words. He wasn't looking forward to the long flight, but Geoff was supposed to pick him up, and Gavin couldn't wait to go back. With all the time he spent there, Austin felt as much like home as England did.

What he didn't expect when he returned was to see Michael's face along with the Ramseys outside the arrival area when he stepped off the plane. He beamed at Gavin, waving. Geoff and Griffon waved too, though not with as much enthusiasm.

Gavin surprised himself by dropping his bag and running to Michael, grasping him tight around the neck and giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. “My little Michael,” he said with a laugh. “You came to meet me!”

Michael laughed as well, clamping a hand on Gavin's back. “Of course I did, moron.”

Geoff picked up the bag Gavin dropped. “Let's get going, shall we?”

They walked to Geoff's car, Gavin squeezing in with Michael and Millie in the back. Griffon sat next to Geoff in the passenger seat and turned round to look at him. “How was the trip?”

“Good,” Gavin said, leaning close and holding Michael's hand tight. “I missed my family more than I thought.”

“Did you miss us over there?” Millie asked.

Gavin ruffled her hair. “You bet. I'm glad to be back.”

Michael stayed with them at Geoff's house, cuddling with Gavin on the couch. Gavin was thrilled to have all his loved ones from America in a single space, his legs splayed over Michael's lap. “I never gave you a Christmas present,” he said, looking up at him.

Michael met his gaze. “We agreed we didn't have to.”

“Yeah, but now I feel bad.” Gavin stretched a bit. His joints popped and he sighed at the feeling. “I should have got something.”

“Nah.” Michael tapped his fingers on Gavin's legs. “Having you back home is good enough for me.”

Gavin sat up. “That had to be the cheesiest thing I've heard you say.”

“Oh yeah?” Michael leaned in close and bumped their foreheads together. “How about this?” He kissed Gavin, soft and slow, drew back to meet his eyes again. “I love you, Gavin.”

It was a moment before he registered the words. “What?”

Michael sighed, rolled his eyes. “I love you, dork. Pay attention.”

He . . . loved him? Michael loved him? Gavin's heart beat quick, the words playing over and over in his mind. “Um. I love you too, Michael,” he whispered.

“I'm aware.” Michael smirked and pulled Gavin into another kiss, moving to wrestle him into the cushions and sit in his lap. Gavin squealed through the kisses, wriggled to get free.

“Hey, no sex on my couch!” Geoff came in the room and slapped Michael in the back of the head. “Especially not while my daughter's home.”

Michael glared and got off Gavin. “Maybe we'll go to my place, then.”

“Not until after dinner,” Geoff said, narrowing his eyes at the two of them as if they might jump back on each other. “It's almost done.”

After they ate, Geoff drove them to Michael's apartment. “Thanks, boss,” Michael said when they got out. “I appreciate it.”

“I need to keep the employees happy.” Geoff shrugged. “I'll see you at work tomorrow.”

However, to Gavin's surprise, they didn't go inside after Geoff drove away. He moved to go up the stairs, and Michael held him back by his wrist. “Let's go for a walk first,” Michael said, tilting his head toward the sidewalk. “I'm sure it's warmer here than in England.”

Gavin laughed. “No kidding. Sure, we can walk.”

They held hands, of course, fingers woven together in a tight grip. Gavin reveled in the feeling. “I missed you, Michael.”

“I missed you too.” Michael bumped his hip into him. “You remember what I said before you left, right?”

Gavin had to think a minute. It was a shock when he remembered, after the distractions of coming home and spending time with the Ramseys. “The thing from the hospital?” he guessed.

“Yeah.” Michael stared at his feet. “I can explain it, if you'd like. There's no guarantee you'll believe me, though.”

“Michael.” Gavin snorted. “You healed me with tears. I'll believe just about anything.”

Michael didn't answer. They continued walking for a long time, hands swinging between them. Eventually they came to a park, one of several in Austin where locals could walk dogs, exercise, and spend time on nice days. Gavin could recall going with Millie to this particular one; it had a children's playground that she liked. Michael tugged his hand toward it.

“What are we doing here?”

“You'll see,” Michael assured him.

This late at night, very few people were in the park. A couple evening runners and the occasional homeless person camped on a bench, but no one that cared to notice two men walking hand in hand through it. Gavin swallowed a couple times, wondered why Michael would take them here. Privacy was key, he felt sure, but they didn't need to come to a park in the middle of the night for that.

Michael stopped them when they reached a secluded area, no one within their immediate line of sight. He dropped Gavin's hand and took a step back. He was breathing heavy through his nose. “Michael, you don't have to--” Gavin started to say.

“Yes, I do,” Michael interrupted. “I love you, Gav. You were right, before. You have a right to know about this. But you might not believe me if I tell you. So, I'm going to show you.” Michael clenched his fists. “First . . . do you believe in myths?”

Gavin blinked long and slow. “Myths?” The hospital incident wasn't normal, but this? Michael couldn't be about to tell him he was a prince from a fairytale or something. “Not really,” Gavin admitted, “but I'm open to whatever it is you're going to show me.”

“All right.” Michael took a deep breath. “Gavin, I'm gonna show you something not even my family knows about. Because I love you, and I trust you.” He smiled, once, and settled into a serious expression. “If you never want to see me again after this, I'll understand.”

“I wouldn't—” Gavin started. Michael held up a hand to silence him. Gavin clamped his mouth shut.

Michael stepped further back, at least eight feet between them. He closed his eyes and breathed, in and out, concentrating. Gavin watched quietly from where he stood, heart pounding as his mind spun with speculations. He tugged his collar, skin heated in the hot night.

Actually, Gavin thought after a minute, it felt like it was getting hotter. Nights in Austin weren't this bad. He pulled his shirt again, fanning his chest. What was going on?

Gavin tried to keep his eyes trained on Michael, even as he started to sweat. It took a moment to connect the dots. Gavin narrowed his eyes. Was this Michael's doing?

Michael kept his eyes closed, fists tight, head down. The air around him burned. Gavin gulped. He wanted to stop him, tell Michael it was okay not to do this, but it was too late. Michael's eyes snapped open, and he looked toward the sky with a pained groan. The air around him began to swirl and twist in a mini vortex. A spark burst, there were flames everywhere. Gavin yelped, tried to get close, but the heat proved too much and he had to move back again. The fire swallowed Michael in a tornado, embers popping and sizzling as the heat grew.

Gavin could barely see his boyfriend in the inferno. He had to shield his eyes to prevent himself going blind. Through his fingers, looking indirectly at the mess, Gavin could just make out Michael's shape in the fiery tornado. Then, it was gone.

The heat drew back. Air whooshed past Gavin, the night as cool as it had been minutes before. He could see no more fire in the gaps of his fingers, put his hand down. Gavin's eyes went wide, and he let out a gasp. Michael no longer stood in front of him.

In his place, the beautiful, flame colored bird Gavin saw so many weeks ago. It was at least as tall as him, if not taller, long swan neck stretched toward the sky. It lowered its head as Gavin stared, meeting his eyes. The head resembled that of an eagle, crowned with a crest of purple and orange feathers, but the beak was straight and gentle looking, not sharp. Its neck curved and ended with the breast and body of a peacock, and Gavin understood why people might mistake it as such. Its golden legs ended in sharp talons that could easily rip out someone's throat. And behind the bird cascaded a flowing tail, orange, red, and purple feathers dancing along the ground in a pattern that mimicked fire itself. The bird stretched its orange wings and beat them a couple times in the air, fanning Gavin. He exhaled, not realizing he'd been holding his breath.

A long moment passed, and Gavin asked tentatively, “Michael?”

The bird beat its wings again and let out a single cry that sounded more like a bell than an actual bird. Gavin wanted to approach, he felt was frozen. Michael was engulfed in a fire and this bird stood in his place. His mind refused to wrap around what that meant.

This was more than some strange healing power. This was more than Gavin ever thought he would have to deal with when he developed a crush and subsequently fell in love with Michael.

The bird stared for quite some time. Eventually, when Gavin said nothing more and refused to uproot himself, it beat its wings again. It got hot, too hot, Gavin was sweating through his shirt. The fire returned to swallow the bird. Gavin did nothing but watch as it cried out and disappeared in another fire tornado, closing his eyes when it got too bright. When the heat died, he opened them again, and once more his boyfriend was there, just as he had been when they first came to the park.

Except now Michael looked worried. Gavin rarely saw him worried. Angry, yeah. Upset, yeah. Worried? Never. Gavin gulped and dug up the courage to speak.

“That was you,” he said, voice shaking.

“Yes.” Michael shoved his hands in his pockets. “That bird was me.”

Gavin understood what he meant when Michael said he might not believe it. “Care to explain?”

Michael hesitated. “Yes, if you promise not to bolt.” He met Gavin's eyes. “You look like you'll run away any fucking second.”

It took more effort than it should have, but Gavin walked toward Michael and stopped in front of him. This was still the man he loved, his coworker, his friend. Gavin took his hand, rubbing the still boiling skin. Michael's constant high temperature made a bit more sense now, if he truly was some sort of fire bird. Gavin was still having trouble thinking it through.

“Let's sit down.” Michael took a firm hold of Gavin, walked them out of the secluded area, until they found a park bench. He sat Gavin down, making sure he wouldn't faint on him, and sat beside him. “This is a long story,” Michael said, as he stared at the ground.

“I'll listen,” Gavin assured him, voice catching in his throat.

Michael sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I guess I'll start with the basics. You saw me change. And that's because I'm . . . well, I'm a phoenix.”

He gave that a chance to sink in. Gavin kept a grip on his hand, processed the information. A phoenix. A mythical bird. In the middle of Austin, Texas, in Gavin's life. Somehow he always knew he was in some book or movie, he thought, his life too good to be real. Gavin didn't laugh at his own joke. “All right,” he said, when Michael didn't keep talking.

“Right,” Michael said. “So, that's why I was able to do that. Heal your arm, I mean. And that's why my skin is so hot. I'm basically part fire.”

“I thought you'd be in Arizona,” Gavin said, still trying to deflect the shock with humor. Michael chuckled, but it was forced.

Gavin went over the scene in his head again. “So, you're a bird.”

“Yeah.”

“But you can also be human?”

Michael leaned back on the bench, never letting go of Gavin's hand. “Yes. Oh, God, how the fuck do I explain this?” His eyes closed, tired, frustrated.

“Take your time,” Gavin offered.

Fifteen long minutes of silence stretched between them. Gavin pulled his hand free and leaned forward, his arms on his legs, fingers twined together. He stared at the ground and thought about the transformation over and over.

Michael put his hands on his face. “Okay. I'll go from the beginning. You listening?”

“Yeah.”

“All right, then.” Michael sighed and opened his eyes to stare at the night sky. “I was born a long time ago. Before you were born, before Austin existed, before America was even known to the Europeans. I came to life when the last phoenix died, because only one exists at a time.”

So there weren't others like Michael. A lonely life, was all Gavin could think.

“I didn't know I could become human until I was an adult. I lived near them. I was smart enough to learn their language. One day, some hunters were chasing me.” Michael frowned. “I panicked, wished I wasn't some fucking rare prize for them to covet. And like that, I felt fire overcome me, and I looked like this.” He gestured vaguely to his chest. “The hunters found me and helped me, figured I was some homeless charity case without a penny to my name. After that, I changed a lot, and I found out a harsh truth.”

Gavin looked up. Michael's eyes were fixed on his hands.

“I found out,” he continued, “that if I stay human too long, I forget how to become a phoenix again. It takes longer to transform, I have to use more energy. My powers get weak. If I tried to stay human permanently,” Michael said, barely above a whisper, “I might lose my powers completely, and never be able to fly again.”

Something clicked in Gavin's mind, that should have clicked much earlier. “The news reports about that bloody bird.”

“Guilty,” Michael said with a smirk. “I have to change for a few hours every once in a while.”

“And the morning I saw the bird when you were moving--”

“I hadn't done it in a while,” Michael said. “I wouldn't have while you were around, if I didn't have to. My mistake inviting you when I knew I might have to fly soon.”

This raised more questions than it answered, ticking back and forth across Gavin's mind like a pendulum. Gavin felt his brain might explode.

“The hospital--” he choked out, unable to turn it into a coherent sentence.

“Healing powers,” Michael explained. “A phoenix can heal about any wound with its tears.”

“And the hot skin?”

“A consequence of being a phoenix.” Michael shrugged. “Like I said, I'm part fire, sort of.”

“But why?” Gavin forced out, because it was the biggest thing weighing on his mind. He looked Michael in the eye for the first time since he'd changed. “Why be human when you could be a giant bird that flies around with fire powers?”

“Because it's fucking lonely.” Michael leaned forward, pecked Gavin on the cheek. “Only one phoenix exists, ever. One dies and another one is born. As a human, I can have friends and sometimes a family. And now, you.” He smiled. “I have a life as a person.”

That only raised another question. “You said your family doesn't know.”

“Oh, yeah.” Michael's eyelids drooped in displeasure. “Long story short, I'm adopted.”

Gavin would have to ask for the long story sometime. For now, he kept his gaze on his boyfriend. Everything that happened in less than an hour was blowing his mind from the inside out and he really needed a lie down. “Maybe we should go home,” he said, more desperately than he intended.

Michael nodded and stood. “Sounds like a good idea, Gav. You . . .” Michael paused, licked his lips. “You still want to come home with me?”

“Of course.” Gavin stepped close to him. “I still love you, Michael. No matter what.” And that he could be sure of, if nothing else.

Usually, when the two went to bed, they at least made out and sometimes jerked each other off before settling into slumber. This night, Michael dressed for bed, brushed his teeth, and curled up on the far side of the bed to give Gavin physical and mental space. Gavin lay at his side, staring at the ceiling as though it would give him all the answers. His stomach flipped, tongue dry, the more he thought about it.

Gavin wanted to shake Michael awake and ask him everything. Why did he only look in his twenties when he was so much older; did he never age? If so, what happened when people started to notice? How did he get adopted by a family in Jersey? Why move down to Austin?

And if he never told anyone, not even his parents, about his true identity, why did he not only tell Gavin, but show him?

Gavin turned his head to look at the back of Michael's. His chest rose and fell in slow rhythm, indicating he'd fallen asleep. The Brit shifted close and snuggled next to him, front to back, his hand resting on Michael's side and chin falling into the crook of his neck, their bodies fitting perfectly. He could see why Michael wouldn't want to tell him. This might change their entire relationship.

If he wasn't human, was it right for them to be dating?

That made his heart twinge. Gavin shoved the questions away, closed his eyes. Anything he wanted to know could be answered in the morning.

* * *

Gavin dreamed of the apartment on fire.

He woke in a puddle of sweat, the way he always did when sleeping next to Michael. The dream kept close to his consciousness and beat away the sleep. Gavin groaned, pushed away from Michael, throwing an arm over his eyes. It was barely past dawn and much too early to be alert and fearful. Gavin sighed and got up from bed for a brief walk through the apartment, ensuring that there were indeed no fires. When he felt satisfied, he went back and tossed the sheets from the bed. Gavin wondered if Michael ever bothered with blankets, and how he dealt with heat waves. The thoughts were idle, covered in the edges of returning sleep. Gavin fell back into dreamland shortly after laying down.

Waking up proper felt awful. He was sweatier than before and seriously considering investing in a fan. Maybe Geoff had one he could steal. It was still a bit early to be getting up for work, so Gavin settled for watching Michael sleep. His mind buzzed with last night's escapade again. Gavin didn't want to think about it.

“Mmf.” Michael shifted, draping his arm over Gavin, one eye cracked open. “Whatcha doin, Gav?”

Gavin smiled. “Watching you sleep. You're cute.”

Michael frowned. “And you're a stalker.” He moved to sit up, hair falling across his face. “I need a haircut,” he muttered, brushing it back. He looked at Gavin again. “So, you're still here?”

“Yeah, 'course.” Gavin touched his hair, flicking a curl. “I got about a million questions. But I'll save it for later. Time for work, yeah?”

Michael nodded, jumped out of bed. “Looks like I'll need to wash my sheets. Again.” He pulled the sweat stained cloth out from under Gavin, who yelped and scrambled across the bed to avoid being tossed off completely. “You sweat like a fucking pig.”

“Well, that's your fault, innit?” Gavin stood and stretched. “Your fire skin couldn't be much hotter.”

Michael threw the sheets at Gavin. He yelped again, swiping at them as they hit his face, fingers trapped in the folds and forcing Gavin to sort through the cloth until his hands were free.

It felt normal, Gavin thought, as he kicked the sheets under the bed. Michael dug them out and shot him a playful glare, carrying them to the laundry basket situated in the corner. They had the same repertoire as before. It was better, in fact, because Gavin wasn't wondering why Michael was hot literally in addition to figuratively, and for once he didn't look at the scar on his arm and wonder.

His boyfriend was a phoenix, and Gavin had no objections in this moment.

They had a breakfast of eggs and toast and got ready for work. In the short walk over, Michael held Gavin's hand.

“I was thinking of getting a fan,” Gavin said, rubbing his thumb over Michael's palm.

“Sure,” Michael agreed easily. “We can go shopping for one.”

“Nah, I'll ask Geoff.”

Michael gave him a look that Gavin couldn't decipher, looking deep in thought. But they came to the office before Gavin could ask about it, and he dropped it in the back of his mind with his other questions that weren't suitable to think about during work.

“The idiots are here,” Geoff said when they came in.

“Have they moved in together yet?” Jack asked. “Gavin practically lives with Michael already.”

“I do not,” Gavin objected as he sat down. He would be lying, though, if the idea of moving in with Michael didn't make his stomach thrum with warmth. Thankfully Jack only chuckled and set the teasing aside in favor of more important tasks.

In the wake of their work, the Brit quickly forgot about the complicated situation. He focused on editing, discussed with Geoff more ideas for Let's Plays. Group play throughs were planned to happen soon with all four of them, if they could figure out a work schedule that allowed them to take the time out of their days. It passed as easily as any other day at Rooster Teeth.

“Coming, Gavin?” Geoff said when it was time to leave. He waited at the office door, twirling his car keys around his pointer finger.

“Sure thing, gimme a minute.” Gavin closed the applications he had running.

Michael spun in his chair to face him. “Actually, Gavin, I was hoping you could stay at my place again tonight.”

“Practically married,” Jack sung.

“Shut the fuck up, Jack,” Michael spat. “So, how about it, Gavin?”

If he stayed with him, Gavin knew he'd be asking Michael endlessly about the phoenix thing. The look Michael was giving him said something important, though. Gavin glanced at Geoff and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Geoff.”

“Ugh, fine,” he said, like waiting for Gavin caused him wasted effort. “More time for me to spend with my family. See you tomorrow.” He left without so much as a wave. Gavin grinned at Michael.

They settled in the apartment with spaghetti for dinner, prepared by Michael while Gavin sat on the couch and watched television, Michael having finally gotten his furniture a few weeks prior. In the midst of eating, Michael stopped rather suddenly and looked at Gavin the same way he had that morning, the look that said he had something to talk about. Gavin put his plate on the coffee table and returned the gaze. “What?”

“I have a question.” Michael shifted from his end of the couch, closer to Gavin. “But you have to promise not to freak out on me.”

If anything could freak him out at this point, he might have to give Michael an award of some sort, Gavin thought. “What is it?”

Michael tapped his fingers on the back of the couch. “How would you feel about moving in?”

Well. That was unexpected. Gavin lifted an eyebrow. “Do you actually listen to Jack nowadays?”

“Fuck no.” Michael snorted. “I was thinking about this a long time ago. But, he's got a point.”

Gavin thought of his room at Geoff's, waking every morning to Griffon's smile and Millie running to school or playing with her toys. “I've been living with Geoff a long time,” he said.” It'd be a little weird to change now.”

“Yeah,” Michael admitted, “but you practically live here anyway. You come over every other night.”

Gavin clenched his hands. Being with Michael twenty four seven would be a dream come true. He hadn't completely processed the entire 'his boyfriend isn't human' deal, though. On top of that, they hadn't been dating long, as much as Gavin felt Michael was the love of his life and he wanted to spend every minute with him. But one day was not long for him to cope with the new information and make serious decisions about their life together. Gavin tried to sum up his thoughts with, “It's a bit soon.”

“Look,” Michael continued, “I get it if you're scared. I just thought, since we're both really into each other, and we both know pretty much everything about each other now with-- with the phoenix stuff and all--” Michael was stuttering, stumbling over his words. Gavin's eyes went a bit wide, and he leaned in to capture his boyfriend's lips before he deteriorated completely.

“Thank you,” Gavin said when he pulled away. “I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Michael frowned. “I was planning to ask right after you got back from England, actually. Before you asked to know about me. It was gonna be a romantic surprise.”

It was Gavin's turn to snort. “You, romantic?”

“Yes, asshole!” Michael smacked him in the arm. “I happen to be skilled in the fine art of romancing men and fucking them to death.” Gavin smacked him back for that one, and soon they were wrestling each other on the couch. “I wanted to take you out to dinner and shit,” Michael continued through the rough jabs and shoving, “but no, you whined, 'Michael, let's eat with Geoff and Griffon, I missed them more than I missed you.'” He imitated Gavin's accent poorly, laughing as Gavin got hold of his wrists and pinned them to the cushion.

“So you ask me on your couch instead?” Gavin breathed hard, all energy focused on keeping his boyfriend trapped.

“I thought the gesture with the phoenix shit was enough romance for a decade,” Michael spat playfully. “Not every guy gets to know that, you know.”

That made Gavin pause, his hands on Michael's shoulders, knee between his legs. Michael told him something no one else knew about him, a true secret. Someone could try to kidnap Michael, even kill him, if they knew about something so strange and wonderful. Telling an idiot like himself probably took more guts than asking him to move in, or even a proposal.

“What are you looking at?” Michael asked sharply.

Gavin smiled. “I'm looking at you, my little boy.” He leaned in for another kiss. Michael tasted like tomato from the spaghetti sauce, reminding Gavin of their first night together as a couple with pizza flavored kisses in the morning. “And,” Gavin said as he pulled back, sucking in a breath, “I would love to move in with you, Michael.” He backed off, letting Michael sit up and look at him properly.

“Really?” he asked. “You sure?”

“Yes.” No backing out, Gavin thought. The issues could be sorted out later; right now Michael was panting, red faced, hair tussled, and it was an image Gavin wanted to keep with him forever. “Living here with you would be absolutely top.”

Michael beamed and launched himself forward. Gavin squawked, pinned beneath the redhead on the couch. Michael kissed him deep and quickly moved to his neck, licking and biting the skin. “I love you so fucking much,” he said. “You're a dumb Brit and you irritate the shit out of me and I love you.”

Gavin made a noise halfway between a groan and a laugh. Michael moved down his neck and back up, pulling the skin between his teeth to form harsh hickeys. Gavin closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling. He loved attention paid to his neck, Michael knew that very well. It wasn't long before he got impatient, though, tugging at Gavin's collar. “Off,” he muttered into the crook of his neck. “Now.”

“I can't while you're, ah, doing that, love.” Gavin squirmed, reluctant to actually push Michael off. He let go with a grunt and Gavin sat up to remove his shirt. Michael did the same while his hands weren't busy and quickly reattached himself to the Brit, teeth and tongue on his neck, hands squeezing and massaging Gavin's shoulders, kneading the muscle loose. He bit once on his collarbone, muttering possessively, “I want to make you mine tonight, Gavin.”

“Mm,” he groaned, pushing his hips closer to Michael, wrapping his legs around his body. “You wanna have sex?” Gavin had to ask, because fuck if he was never sure of anything Michael said.

“What do you think?” Michael lowered his hand to Gavin's torso and rubbed his chest, fingers tangling in the thick hair, heat from his skin sending shiver's down Gavin's spine, head swimming with lust. It was usually at this point Gavin would remind Michael he didn't feel right having sex yet, and they would either go to bed or have a quick jerk. But he no longer felt antsy about anything Michael could be keeping from him, and the tight coil in his abdomen was speaking louder than anything in his brain.

“I think we should go to the bedroom.” Gavin gasped as Michael rubbed his nipples and laid endless kisses on his shoulders, lavishing them with attention.

“Okay.” Michael drew back and took Gavin's hand, but the Brit stayed on the couch for a minute, staring into space as he recovered from the recent onslaught. “Too hot?” he asked when Gavin didn't get up right away, loosening the grip on his palm.

“Nah, just-- distracted.” Gavin laughed, head swirling with the scent of Michael, the feel of their hands together enough contact to flood his body with happiness. “You're the perfect temperature for me, Michael.”

Michael smiled and tugged. Gavin stood, and they made their way with calm affection, not the desperate energy they had the first time Gavin came home to Michael's apartment.

That changed the minute Michael got Gavin on the bed. Regardless of who did what during sex, Michael would no doubt be the dominant one. He flicked the lamp on and shoved Gavin down, placed his legs either side of Gavin's hips, grinning like a cat. He undid his belt and Gavin's in a few short moves, and lowered both their zippers to let their hardening cocks have some room. Gavin tried to grind on him when Michael's hand touched him briefly. “Not yet, Gavvers,” Michael warned, hand going to Gavin's stomach to hold him down. “I've waited too long for this. We're doing it my way.”

Damn if that didn't frighten and excite Gavin at the same time.

Michael bent to kiss him again, teasing his lips with his tongue. Gavin opened for him easily and he wasted no time counting his teeth and pressing their tongues together. Michael pulled back to lightly nip at Gavin's bottom lip before shoving his tongue back in.

While he distracted the Brit with his mouth, Michael used the hand not holding Gavin down to run up and down his arms, squeezing his muscles, rubbing soothing circles into the skin. The hand soon moved to his face to tangle in Gavin's hair, tugging each time he bit his lips again until his boyfriend's mouth was a sore, red mess. Michael ended the kiss with a final stroke of his tongue, and stared down at Gavin, flushed and needy. He let out a groan at the sight. “God, Gavin, you're fucking gorgeous.”

Gavin barely managed a smile, still dizzy from the kissing. “So are you.”

Michael gave him a small peck on the cheek, sat up to remove his jeans and boxers. Gavin followed his lead, heart thrumming the way it always did when he saw Michael naked. His tattoos almost seemed to glow in the low light. The curve of his hips, the flex of his arms, the bend of his joints, Gavin loved it all and he wanted to smother Michael with attention. He didn't get a chance, though. The redhead pushed him back down and started mouthing his earlobe, blowing gentle breaths in his ear that made Gavin shiver as he put his arms around Michael's neck, not sure if his body felt like it would overheat due to Michael's temperature, or the things he was doing to him.

“I want a bloody turn,” Gavin whined.

Michael chuckled and nipped to the spot under his jaw. “Most people wouldn't complain about being the recipient.”

“It's not fair.” Gavin tightened his grip around Michael's neck.

“Oh well.” Michael continued kissing under his jaw. Gavin gasped when Michael ground his hips down, cocks rubbing each other, sending bolts of pleasure through them both. “You like that, Gav?” he whispered into his neck. Gavin could only moan.

But despite the pleasure clouding his brain, Gavin decided it was time to change the game.

He pulled Michael into him with the arms around his neck. Michael grunted. Gavin flipped them, pressed against Michael to keep him down, shifting his hands either side of his head. He captured Michael's lips in a quick kiss and grinned down at him. “My turn,” he said.

Michael raised an eyebrow, said nothing.

Gavin took that as a yes and shifted lower, his face level with Michael's chest. To the redhead's surprise, instead of assaulting his chest, Gavin turned right and started kissing his arm, tracing the pattern of his tattoos with his tongue. “I always thought these were nice,” he muttered. “Would get one myself if I didn't hate needles.”

Michael closed his eyes, hummed at the feeling.

Not for long, as Gavin's free hand danced down his stomach to grasp Michael's cock, rubbing the head with his thumb. Michael made a choked noise and thrust shakily. “Jesus, Gavin, warn me,” he huffed.

“Mm.” Gavin kept his eyes on the tattoos, biting here and there where colors met and lines ended, patterning the images with teeth marks. He stroked Michael's cock slow, squeezing occasionally. Michael panted and thrust into his hand.

When his left arm was sufficiently covered with love bites, Gavin finally changed the focus of his mouth to the cock in his hand. He stuck out his tongue without hesitation and licked the underside, up to the head and laving the very tip.

“Oh, my God, Gavin,” Michael said disjointedly. “Don't you, ah, dare suck me off,” he threatened. “I wanna fuck you.”

Gavin kept his tongue on the head another moment, pulled back. “Do you have supplies?”

Michael took a moment to regain his composure, sitting up on his elbows. “Fuck, yes, you think I wouldn't? They're in the bedside table where they should be.”

Gavin busied himself getting what they needed. In the table were a couple tubes of lube and a box of condoms. Gavin wasn't sure why he had any doubt Michael would have what they needed. He grabbed one of each and turned back to Michael, who sat up fully and looked like he was resisting the urge to jack himself off. “Gimme those,” he said, and Gavin handed them over.

Michael set them on the side of the bed and crawled to him. “Lay down.” And Gavin obeyed again, lying as he had before with his head on a pillow. Michael situated himself between his legs and pulled the lube and condom closer. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking Gavin in the eye.

“Tippy top,” Gavin said, smiling. “Let's get on with it already.”

Michael laughed. “You asked for it. Spread your legs a bit.”

He moved lower on the bed, breathing against Gavin's cock. The sight of the Brit on his back and red faced, cock standing before him, was too much for Michael to resist. He took hold of Gavin's dick and stroked a few times, eliciting a moan from Gavin. “This is going to be great, I promise.” Michael kissed the cock just once, looked around for the lube. He spread it liberally on his fingers, returned his left hand to the cock. Gavin's head fell back on the pillow. Michael put a slick finger against his entrance, stopped to look at Gavin. “Ready?”

“Y-Yeah,” Gavin stuttered.

“Okay.” Michael touched his dick lightly to distract him, gently pushing his finger in.

The feeling was weird, to say the least. Gavin never did this before and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried about it. Michael stroking him helped, a pleasure to keep his mind off the initial pain. His boyfriend carefully pushed the finger in, until it was fully encased, and waited a moment for Gavin to adjust. After Gavin's breathing slowed, Michael pulled out, and pushed in again.

The entire process took some time. Gavin whined a bit when Michael introduced another finger, and he stopped to wait for Gavin's okay. At his nod, he worked his fingers a bit faster, stretching Gavin. Michael added a third finger, and it was then he released Gavin's cock and held him down by the hip, searching for his prostate. Gavin squirmed underneath him.

“Ah!” Gavin gasped when Michael found the sensitive spot inside him, bucking. Luckily Michael's hand on him kept him from moving too much, because Gavin surely would have thrust too hard and jostled Michael's position.

“Did that feel good?” Michael asked with a smirk. He searched briefly until he found it again and brushed the batch of nerves. Gavin moaned loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “I think you're all right now,” Michael said, and slowly pulled his fingers free. Gavin grunted, clenched his muscles, wanting the feeling again.

Michael rolled the condom on himself, more than ready to pound into Gavin. He felt hotter than usual, skin boiling, about to explode. He took a gentle hold of Gavin's legs and hoisted them closer to his chest. Gavin took the cue, wrapped his legs around Michael's hips, as well as putting his hands on Michael's shoulders, rubbing them.

“I'm good when you are, Michael,” Gavin said, looking straight into his eyes.

Michael leaned down and gave him a deep kiss, briefly sweeping his tongue in his mouth and drawing back. “I'll go slow.”

He put his hands on Gavin's hips, holding him up, and positioned his cock. Just the feeling of himself against Gavin was enough to make him come right there. Michael took a deep breath, and pressed forward.

Gavin gasped again. Pain hit him like lightning. His fingers clenched on Michael's shoulders. His boyfriend bent forward to kiss his temple. “I know, Gavvy, it hurts at first.”

They took their time, Michael inching in when Gavin relaxed, Gavin focused on keeping his breaths even. Soon enough, Michael had bottomed out inside him, and waited for Gavin to give him the okay again. “All right there?”

Gavin swallowed. “Yeah, I'm good.” After the initial shock, it didn't hurt much, but it was hard to find pleasure in the feeling of being so stretched. And so hot. Michael's cock had to be five times worse than the rest of him, burning Gavin from the inside out.

Michael kissed him again, pulled back, and started a pattern of gentle thrusts. Gavin grunted and clung to him. His cock rubbed against Michael's stomach. Gavin tried to shift his hips to get more of the feeling, inadvertently angling himself so Michael struck his prostate.

“Bloody hell!” Gavin shook at the strength of the feeling. “D-do that again.”

Michael smiled, and tried to find Gavin's sweet spot again. A couple thrusts, and he found it, prodding it as he worked himself in and out. Gavin cried out from the pleasure. That was why men did this, he thought, pulling Michael in with his legs. The feeling was unlike any he experienced before.

It was messy and imprecise and still hurt a bit through the pleasure. Gavin said, “Faster.” Michael obeyed, the bed shaking under their rhythm. Their heavy breaths filled the room, sweat dripping down their skin. Gavin clawed at Michael's back every time he felt sparks running through him, leaving scratches he knew wouldn't heal for days. Michael gripped his hips tight enough to bruise and slammed forward. “Oh, my God!”

“You're so tight,” Michael hissed. “I can't believe we waited this long.”

Gavin loved the pressure. He yanked Michael forward by his neck, lips colliding messily. He urged his hips as much as he could, earning faster and harder thrusts from the redhead. Gavin struggled to keep their kiss, desperate for a way to focus his energy, and abandoned the effort when Michael rubbed his prostate again and he couldn't contain his moan.

Michael moved his right hand back to Gavin's cock, because he was close and he wanted them to come at the same time. In doing so, he had to lay Gavin's hips back on the bed, unable to hold him with one arm. Gavin keened at the loss and tightened his legs. Michael fixed that by tugging his dick, thrusting again. It didn't have the same power as before, but being jacked off distracted Gavin well enough. The Brit huffed and writhed, face tinted red. “Michael, please,” he begged.

“You want to come?” He couldn't resist teasing, just a little.

“Yes!” Gavin cried, trying and failing to properly thrust into Michael's hand.

“All right.” Michael got a hold of Gavin's leg with his free hand for leverage and picked up his pace again, stroking Gavin at the same time. “I'm gonna come soon, Gav,” he warned.

“M-me too.”

One more look at Gavin's face, lips parted and pupils blown wide with arousal, was all it took. Michael pushed in as deep as he could and came, shouting Gavin's name. He lost focus a moment, his world blacked out. When he regained his sense, Michael saw Gavin panting with a still hard cock, chastised himself. He tightened his grip slightly and stroked the Brit until Gavin was crying again and he spilled all over his hand. With both of them satisfied, Michael pulled out and tossed the condom in the trash.

Stars spun in Gavin's vision. He blinked several times to clear it until he could see the ceiling. Speech seemed impossible, his lips heavy and stained with Michael's saliva. Eventually the redhead crawled beside him and collapsed face first in the pillows. “Okay, there?” Gavin managed, shifting a bit to give Michael more room.

“Okay?” Michael lifted his head enough to peer at him with one eye. “I'm more than okay, Gavin. That was fantastic.”

“Mm, it was,” Gavin agreed, idly slipping a hand up to play with his curls. “I think it might be hard to do anything else after I get settled here.”

Michael laughed. “Fuck, I'm dating a sex maniac, aren't I?”

“Maybe.” Gavin grinned and curled onto his side. Michael slid easily into his arms and they fell asleep like that, exhausted and in love.

* * *

Moving in was a process Gavin made more difficult than it had to be.

Geoff failed to inform Michael that it took ages for Gavin to settle in with the Ramseys, and when he did, he had trouble packing for any trips because his stuff was forever scattered and never in the right place. Couple that with his tendency to procrastinate, and getting Gavin in Michael's apartment turned to something akin to herding cats.

It didn't help that the morning after they agreed to it, Gavin woke up with a start, realized just what he'd done, that he agreed to live with a man who wasn't really a man, that his boyfriend was a bird, he still had a million things to ask, and his brain fried itself to the point he refused to talk about moving for a while. Michael couldn't get a word out of him as to why he wouldn't discuss it, and decided to let him alone for the time being.

Two weeks passed before Michael remembered to mention it again, partially due to not leaving the bedroom every time Gavin found himself coming over after work. When he did bring it up, Gavin paused, shrugged. “I'll start getting my stuff sorted.”

February came around with no results. “Gavin,” Michael threatened. “Are you packed for moving yet?”

Gavin was trying to process the truth about Michael, but he couldn't tell him that, it would only hurt Michael's feelings. “Nah, I got too much crap. It's taking forever.”

“It's not taking forever,” Geoff objected when Michael shot him a curious look. “Gavin's lazy.”

“Well, you've been on me about work!” Gavin tried to protest. “Ray's gonna be here soon and you keep dragging me away from my room to plan stuff for Achievement Hunter.”

Geoff couldn't deny this. Michael looked at Gavin with a glare that promised pain if he didn't organize himself soon. Gavin shrunk in his chair.

“Why're you so eager about it?” he tried to ask when Michael pestered him yet again. “It's not like we're on a deadline.”

Michael bit his lip. Gavin raised an eyebrow at that, and his boyfriend straightened out his expression. “Yeah, but when people say they're gonna move, they generally don't fuck around with it.”

“I'll get to it,” Gavin promised.

It wasn't until the beginning of March that Gavin conceded.

He wanted to move in with Michael, he really did. It was a big change, though, and to be honest, a lot of the energy behind his yes was wanting to make Michael happy. He trusted Gavin with his most important secret; how could he deny Michael the simple joy of living in the same home?

However, the faffing about ended the day Michael showed up at the Ramseys with a pile of flattened cardboard boxes and a smug smile. “If it's so hard to move all your stuff,” he told Gavin, tossing the boxes in the door, making his way inside, “I'll help you get started.”

“Dude, he's royally pissed,” Geoff said with a chuckle as Michael passed down the hall to Gavin's room. Gavin followed him down the hall with a frown. “You can't just barge in like this!”

“I didn't,” Michael said as he pushed Gavin's door open and slipped inside. Gavin poked his head around it, lips pursed. “I texted you an hour ago,” Michael continued, setting the boxes on the floor.

“What?” Gavin pulled his phone from his pocket. “I didn't get anything,” he said, when he checked his inbox.

“No?” Michael took his phone out in turn. “Mine says it sent, look.” He held it up for Gavin to look. Indeed, under Gavin's name was a text about Michael coming by to help pack his stuff.

“Hm.” Gavin glanced at his phone again. “This thing's new. Maybe texting doesn't want to work.”

Michael huffed, put his phone away. “That's annoying. I'll email you next time, okay? You can still get emails on your phone, right?”

Gavin nodded as he slipped his own device in the pocket of his shorts. “Yeah, 4G's great.”

“Excellent. Now.” Michael turned to face the disaster that was Gavin's bedroom, wincing. “Geez, I can understand why you might not want to deal with this.” None the less, he bent down and picked up a box, popping it back into shape so they could fill it.

They spent all afternoon in there. Michael set up a few boxes and started throwing items in carelessly. Gavin squawked. “You're going to break something!”

“Then help me,” Michael said, and gave him a wry smirk. Gavin's nostrils flared, but he did as told, took the clothes and knick knacks Michael shoved in the box, setting them in piles for proper packing. “Why'd you wait so long for this, Gavin?”

The question caught him off guard. “Um, no reason.”

“Come on, Gav.”

He would forever curse Michael for how well the man could read him. Gavin swallowed. “Well, I just wanted to be sure it was a good idea. That you didn't change your mind or anything.”

“And?”

He puffed out a breath. “And, I was a little nervous about it.” There, a sliver of truth.

Michael knelt beside him on the floor. “That's my honest little idiot.” He pecked his cheek with a chaste kiss. “Let's hurry and get this shit done, shall we?”

They left the entertainment system, toiletries, and a couple outfits alone for Gavin to survive with until he had everything else out of the house. Griffon carried in a plate of soda and chips for them to eat while they sorted and packed. Millie darted in and out, asking if she could help, leaving when she got bored. Michael had brought six large boxes, more than enough to hold everything. “How did you get down here?” Gavin asked while they drank and lazed on the bed. The floors were bare now, most of his closet emptied.

“Burnie drove me on his way out of the office.” Michael took a long pull from his soda. “He had work to do and said it wouldn't be much of a problem to take me over here.”

“You should get a car,” Gavin mused. “Not much use having a license without one.”

Michael shrugged. “I'm saving up.”

One of Gavin's many wonderings popped in his mind. Geoff and Griffon weren't around. It might not hurt. “So,” he said, “do you ever go out without a car?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “You know I walk places, Gavin.”

“That's not what I meant!” he said defensively. “What I meant was, do you get around, you know.” He looked at Michael, hoping he would get it. The redhead only stared at him. “Flying,” Gavin finally said.

Michael switched from sarcastic to cautious. “It'd be pretty stupid for me to transform for convenience's sake.”

Gavin shrunk a bit on the floor. “Yeah, that's stupid. Sorry.”

Michael huffed, shifted closer, ruffling Gavin's hair. “Feel free to ask me about that if you want,” he said. “It doesn't have to be something we're afraid to talk about.”

“I know, I know.” Gavin sipped his drink. “Is it gonna be tough with me there? I'm there a lot, but you never said if you do phoenix stuff at home.”

Michael laughed. “Phoenix stuff? Really, Gav?”

The Brit blushed and hid behind his soda bottle. “Shut up.”

“It'll be fine.” Michael bumped their shoulders together. “I don't do anything at home that a normal person wouldn't do, I promise. Your presence can only make it better.”

Gavin smiled gratefully and shoved Michael back.

After the break, they got a few more things into the four boxes they were using. Being the weekend, Michael had to get home to record the Internet Box, and he stood as soon as they finished. “Can we start moving tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Gavin agreed. His heart beat faster at the thought, but he couldn't be scared of everything. Moving in with Michael only meant more time with the love of his life.

“Great. Hey Geoff,” Michael shouted. “Gimme a ride home?”

“Fine,” Geoff answered from the hall, voice laced with complaint. “The twink stays here, though,” he added, poking his head in the door.

“Understandable.” Michael saluted him, the way he always did to show mock respect. All three went to the front hall and Geoff opened the door. Michael turned before he left to kiss Gavin. “Have a fun last night.”

“I will.” Gavin smiled as his boyfriend and father figure went to the car and drove away, Michael waving out the open passenger window. Gavin sighed and waved back. If he knew he'd be moving out tomorrow, he might have kicked up more of a fuss, maybe made Geoff make him something special for dinner. There wasn't much left to do tonight besides eat and mentally prepare.

“We'll throw a party,” Griffon suggested at hearing his laments. “Next weekend, a celebration. It'll be great.” She walked closer to sling an arm around Gavin's shoulder. “And you can still stay here whenever you want. Our door is always open for you.”

* * *

Gavin sat impatiently on his bed the next morning. Geoff was to help him take his belongings to Michael's, and he had yet to wake up. Michael texted him endlessly about when he would arrive. His fidgeted restlessly the more he thought about it, but each text from Michael made him grin.

Finally, Geoff awoke and prepared breakfast for himself. Gavin went to the kitchen to wait.

“You're excited,” Geoff said, munching his toasted bagel.

“'Course, I'm moving in with Michael.” Gavin tapped another response on his phone, telling Michael Geoff was up and he would be over soon.

“Worried?” Geoff asked.

He shook his head. “Nah.” It was a lie, but smaller than it had been. His worries were less so after Michael helped him get all his stuff together. They could do this.

The boxes didn't take much doing to put in the trunk and the backseat. Geoff helped put the last of Gavin's belongings away, shoving the final box behind the driver's seat. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Gavin got in the passenger side. “Griffon said she wanted to throw a party for me,” he said when Geoff climbed in and fastened his seat belt.

“She mentioned it.” Geoff backed out and started the drive to Michael's apartment. He gave Gavin a short, unexpected smile. “I'd be happy to do that. We'll all miss having your dumb face around the house.”

Gavin pulled at his seat belt. “I'll miss you guys, too. I can visit a lot.”

“I'm sure you will.” Geoff sighed, his demeanor back to sarcastic and tired. “It'll be too easy to come over and raid my fridge.”

Michael stood waiting for them outside the complex. He smiled as they pulled in, hugged Gavin tight the moment he got out of the car. “Hi,” he said, curls falling into his face.

“You still need a haircut,” Gavin said, pushing a lock away. “Hi.”

“Let's get this shit over with!” Geoff tugged the first box out and tramped up the stairs. Michael followed suit with keys in hand. Gavin trod behind him, his backpack slung on his shoulders. “Too lazy to carry a box?” Michael asked.

“Yes,” Gavin admitted with a grin.

There was one advantage to living in a foreign country; Gavin didn't have much to his name. Getting everything inside didn't take long. Geoff stuck around long enough to give Gavin a tight hug, and drove back home without much fanfare. Gavin found himself wishing he'd made more of a deal out of it.

With Michael's games already set up, there wasn't much use for Gavin's electronics. “Maybe we'll get a cheap second TV for the bedroom,” Michael mused, looking at the box that contained a spare Xbox and a pile of video games. “It might be cool to be able to stay in bed on the weekends.”

Gavin reached past him to take his camera from the box. It was the one his parents got him last Christmas. He still used his phone camera for a majority of his pictures, but this one was good for big events when he wanted high res photos. He tapped his fingers on the casing thoughtfully, a question that had been in his mind for a while coming to the surface.

“Hey, Michael?”

“Yeah?” His boyfriend stopped his rustling around with another box, a pile of Gavin's clothes in one hand.

“Can I get a picture of you?” Gavin held up the camera.

Michael frowned and continued taking clothes in his arms. “You've got a million of me on your phone.”

“Yeah, but they're all of you as a human.”

The meaning of the words struck Michael immediately. He sat up straight, dropped the clothes back in the box as he stood. “Are you asking what I think you are?”

Gavin nodded tentatively. “I mean . . . we kinda stopped talking about it after you told me everything.” All the things Gavin wanted to ask him suddenly burst to the front of his mind. “You get all quiet when I mention it, and there's stuff I wanna talk about. I don't want you to have to hide yourself, Michael.” He thought of the nights when he would wake up, alone, knowing Michael was flying somewhere, how he would come back to the apartment and silently get back in bed without so much as a word about where he went.

Gavin gave him a small, reassuring smile. “And besides, you were beautiful like that. I've never seen a more impressive looking animal.”

Michael turned to the floor, hiding his face. Minutes passed until he spoke again.

“I assumed you wouldn't want to think about it.”

That hit Gavin like a knife to the heart. Michael sounded defeated, afraid, the way he had when showing him his other side. He hated hearing him like that. The Brit stepped close and enveloped Michael in his arms. “I want to know about every part of you,” he insisted.

“Even if you have to think about me not being human?”

“Especially then,” Gavin said, determined. As much as it did worry him . . . his feelings for Michael overrode everything. If they didn't, he wouldn't have agreed to moving in in the first place. “I love you for who you are.”

Michael hesitated, returned the hug. “I love you too, Gav.”

He pulled back to look in Michael's eyes. “So, can I get that picture?”

Michael smirked. “After we finish unpacking.”

That took up a good couple hours, taking everything out, deciding where it went, and breaking the boxes down flat again to be recycled. Afterward, Michael made them a quick lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches and they watched television as they ate. Gavin curled himself against Michael's chest, ear pressed to his ribs, able to hear his heartbeat. It sounded faster than it should be. He wondered if it was from nerves.

“Tonight,” Michael said abruptly as he cleared their plates. Gavin stared over the edge of the couch while he brought them into the kitchen.

“Tonight, what?”

Michael dumped them in the sink, and looked over the counter at him. “You can take pictures of me tonight, when most people are asleep.”

Gavin beamed. “Thank you.”

“Right now,” Michael continued, walking back to the couch and settling next to him, “I think I want you on my cock.” He leaned in for a heavy kiss, tongue brushing Gavin's lips as his hands wandered.

Gavin let him have full access to himself. It was the least he could do for the man who trusted him with everything he had.

The frotting started easily, Gavin pulled into Michael's lap and kissing for a good ten minutes, tongues sweeping across their mouths and pulling back to lick and bite each other's necks before resuming the kisses. Gavin huffed as he felt his jeans tighten, rutting into Michael to get extra friction.

“Why don't you try touching yourself?” Michael asked, as Gavin's rutting got more intense and he was kissing up and down Michael's neck, eventually moving to push his shirt down and bite his collarbone. “It'd be easier than shoving on me like a worked up dog.”

“You know I don't like that,” Gavin murmured, trailing his hands down Michael's side and squeezing lightly. He reveled in the sound when Michael gasped. “Jacking off's no fun,” he added, thrusting his hips again for emphasis.

“Yeah, I don't get that.” Michael shifted to lean his back, looking at the Brit for the first time in their session. “Masturbating is fucking fantastic.”

“Eh.” Gavin gave Michael a lazy kiss. “Don't like my body much,” he said against his lips, stroking his tongue over them. Michael gave up with a sigh and fisted his hand on Gavin's shirt, the other touching the back of his neck.

“Maybe I should fix that.” He looked Gavin in the eye. “I certainly like your body.”

“You don't have to live with it.” Gavin laughed and kissed him again.

Michael pulled away from him with a predatory stare, as though Gavin were something he wanted to eat. “You're hot,” he said, practically growling. “And fuck if I'm not teaching you to like your body as much as I do.” Michael pushed Gavin away suddenly and stood, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the hall to the bedroom with an air of desperation. Gavin briefly wondered if Michael wanted something to forget today's mild drama, and yelped when he was yanked through the door. “Strip and sit,” Michael ordered, tossing Gavin on the bed. The Brit cried out and laughed again, glad to be back in a somewhat normal pattern. If they could forget everything and fuck, he was happy.

Michael pulled his shirt off, but kept his pants, though he unzipped the fly to make room for his half hard cock. Gavin mirrored him, and Michael shook his head. “All of it.”

When Gavin was suitably naked and sitting on the bed, elbows behind him and feet splayed in front, Michael took a chair from the corner and situated it in front of the bed. He sat down and palmed his cock casually through his open zipper. Gavin licked his lips at the sight.

“Jerk off for me, Gav,” he said, slinging an arm over the chair back.

“Oh, come on.” Gavin rolled his eyes. “That's not changing anything.”

“We'll see.” Michael rubbed his cock again and shuddered. “I'm going to stay dressed and touch myself through my pants. If you want to see clothes off, you'll jerk it. Otherwise, don't move from the bed and keep your eyes on me.”

Playing hardball, Gavin thought. “Fine, I'll watch the show.”

“Good.” Michael fondled himself, eyes pouring into Gavin's. The thing about Gavin was, because he didn't like his own body, he reveled in Michael's. Any glimpse of skin made him hornier than a high school kid, and he always begged Michael to touch him when they had sex. Gavin's least favorite positions were those where he couldn't see Michael or curl his fingers into him, feeling the heat and sweat while one of them pounded into the other.

Gavin kept his eyes on Michael's crotch. He wanted to see his dick, watch him stroke it until it was rock hard and ready to burst. But Michael wasn't winning this. Even if Gavin did like to touch himself, he couldn't lose a challenge so easily. He pushed his hands deep under the folds of the sheets.

Michael chose that moment to thrust against his hand and moan like a slut. He looked at Gavin pointedly, licked his lips, pressing just the thumb to his cock head through fabric. Temptation told him to take it out and finish himself, but Gavin staunchly refused to follow his orders, so Michael fought the urge and continued to rub himself. He slowed a bit to keep pleasure at a minimum, while still moaning and essentially performing a strip tease without any actual stripping.

Gavin bit his lip. Michael was beautiful like this. The swirling brown orbs met his green ones and dared him to resist the image. He swallowed, took his right hand out from the sheets. Michael smiled as Gavin slowly took his cock, stiff after Michael's show, and stroked it. “Good boy,” Michael cooed. He stood and removed his pants, sitting back in the chair. Gavin was glad to be able to look at his legs, muscled and covered in fine hair, but it wasn't what he wanted. He yearned to see Michael actually touching himself. The redhead denied him, still massaging through boxers.

“You're an asshole,” Gavin said, voice breathy as pleasure began to swim through his body. He tightened the grip on his dick and stroked a bit faster.

“I know.” Michael moved his hand under the band of his underwear, touching himself directly. He groaned and threw his head back. Gavin was equally turned on, thrusting into his hand. Michael wouldn't go faster, kept his hand in his boxers. Gavin watched his hand shifting under the fabric, wondered exactly what he was doing to himself. “Keep at it if you want to see it,” Michael reminded him.

Gavin whined. “Take the bloody thing off.”

“Not until you're enjoying yourself.”

With a disgruntled sigh, Gavin moved his hand faster and opened his legs more. He thrust every couple of seconds and opened his mouth to pant heavily. Michael seemed pleased, and stood again to take off the final piece of clothing. “Here you go, Gav.” He took hold of his cock completely, matching Gavin's pace. Gavin imagined his own dick was Michael's, that he could give Michael the same feelings running through him as he touched himself.

Michael's eyes went half lidded, staring at Gavin. He didn't think it would be so hot, to see him reluctantly jerk off. His boyfriend was moaning quietly and copying whatever Michael did, eyes fixed on him. “I'm only coming when you do,” Michael said.

Gavin looked like someone kicked his cat. “You're gonna get blue balls.”

“I'll fucking deal with it. Make yourself come.”

Unfortunately for Gavin, he loved hearing Michael order him around. He tried to pout as he rubbed the tip of his dick and spread the precum, but pleasure won out soon and he was panting again. He pulled back his foreskin, pressed his fingers on the pink surface. Electricity shot through him. Gavin's head fell back, forgetting about Michael. The sod's plan bloody worked. Gavin was too wrapped up in himself to watch anymore, hand moving faster as he came close to the peak.

Michael sped up in unison. His cock throbbed, blood pounding heavy in his veins. His skin got so hot even Michael could feel the change in his temperature, fist tight like a vice. He would have to put this on his list of things Gavin did that were a huge turn on, right up there with begging him to come when they played with orgasm denial, and sucking him off for as long as his gag reflex would let him. Michael's toes curled into the carpet.

“Fucking-- ah, I'm gonna come.” Gavin used all his effort not to finish, taking his hand off the straining cock, so he could move to look at the redhead again. Their eyes locked. Gavin almost whimpered at the sight of Michael, flushed and wanting. “Are you gonna keep your part of this?”

Michael smirked. “As soon as you do, Gav.”

Gavin put his hand back, breathing heavy. He stroked hard and fast, curling in on himself. Through the pleasure, he watched Michael, who was in a similar state, leaning forward in the chair. “Bloody hell--!” The orgasm hit him as he stared at Michael. Gavin gasped and arched, come dripping across his hand and the bedspread.

Michael groaned and came shortly, staining the floor. He slumped, hand still on his cock, the other clenching open air. “Fuck. That was so fucking hot.”

Gavin collapsed back on the bed. “You're a dick.”

“Hey, I got you to enjoy masturbating, didn't I?” Michael slipped on the bed with him, bearing a smile that should be illegal. “I'd say that's a point in the good boyfriend handbook.”

“Hmph.” Gavin buried his face in the pillow, sweaty and too tired to take a shower. “Come here, you pleb.” He opened his arms for Michael, who tucked himself in and set his head on the other pillow. Michael gave him a softer smile, and said, “I love you, Gavvy wavvy.”

Gavin smiled back. “I love you too, my little Michael.”

As tired as they were, the session had both of them riled up, Gavin nosing into Michael's hair and placing soft kisses on top of his head after some of the post orgasm drowsiness wore off. Michael gave in easily, and they didn't stop until they finished two more rounds of fucking. Michael caved to Gavin's desire to have Michael touching him rather than his own hand, shoving the Brit on top of him for a long ride that ended in Gavin screaming Michael's name, and after a rest, they fucked again, Michael on top and pounding hard into Gavin's body. It was late when they finally laid quiet, in endorphin fueled bliss, easily falling asleep in each other's arms.

They woke after dark, sweaty and satisfied. Gavin looked out the window to judge the time, surprised by the darkness and lack of city lights, disentangling himself. Michael mumbled something and clung to him. “It's nighttime,” Gavin told him, pushing his arm away.

“Mm?” The redhead opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. “What now?”

“It's night,” Gavin repeated. “Still sleepy?”

“More like exhausted.” Michael sat up and stretched. “But not really tired, per se.”

Gavin bit his lip. “Do you still want to take the pictures?”

Michael finished his stretch, looked at Gavin curiously. The words clicked in his sleep addled mind. He frowned, and wiped the expression quickly. “Yeah, sure, lemme get dressed.”

“You don't have to,” Gavin reminded him as he got out of bed and searched for his pants.

“I want to.” And the smile Michael flashed was one of those rare ones, that showed love and understanding in a way Gavin didn't see from anyone else. It was impossible not to smile back.

They dressed and Gavin searched for his camera, finding it on the coffee table where he set it while they were still moving stuff around. He checked to make sure the battery was charged and took a couple experimental pictures to ensure it worked. Michael walked up behind him and watched.

“All's good.” Gavin waved the camera to show him.

“Cool.” Michael shifted a bit, arms crossed. “Gavin, you won't show those pictures to anyone, will you?”

“What?” Gavin frowned. “Of course not. It's only for me, I promise.”

Michael shrugged. “I believe you. I just had to ask.”

Gavin took his hand, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. He kissed Michael lightly, made his way to the door, opening it and gesturing for Michael to go through. “Ladies first,” he teased.

“Fuck you,” Michael said with a laugh, stepping through.

They went to the same park they used before, because it was close and empty and quiet. Gavin fiddled with his camera as they searched for an appropriate area. Michael stopped in a tiny forest. He tugged his hair, twirling the locks in front of his eyes. Gavin turned the camera on and waited.

“Don't freak out on me,” Michael warned. “I don't want to carry an unconscious boyfriend home.”

“Nah, I'm good.” Gavin took a couple steps back. “Whenever you want.”

Michael shrugged off his jacket and glasses. He tucked them next to the trunk of a tree. Gavin looked at it, and the foliage around them. “Will anything light up?” he asked, concerned. “We weren't this close to plants last time.”

A small laugh from Michael. “No, the fire I generate is harmless unless I want it to hurt. Nothing will catch, I promise.”

Gavin trusted him. He shifted from foot to foot. The redhead shook himself, closed his eyes, and breathed deep the way he had the first time he transformed in front of Gavin. The temperature spiked. Gavin tugged at the collar of his shirt and held the camera behind his back, wary of damaging it. Whether the fire was real or not, the heat certainly felt genuine.

Watching Michael change again was different this time around. For one, Gavin knew what to expect. He wasn't nearly as worried about the flames and the pained groans, though to say he didn't want to help Michael would be a lie. Flames sparked from nothing and surrounded his boyfriend, covering him from head to toe, getting brighter by the second until Gavin had to shield his eyes.

The heat died. The light dimmed. He lowered his hand, and once again felt awestruck at the sight of the animal before him.

With how dissimilar the different parts of the phoenix looked, as if someone took the best parts of several birds and stuck them together, it shouldn't look good as a single body, and yet it did. The bird, Michael, let out a melodic sound that rung in Gavin's ear. He swallowed and came closer, bringing the camera out. “Hello, Michael,” he said cautiously. It didn't feel the same, facing him in this form.

The phoenix cooed, voice ringing softer and sweeter than before, and it ducked its head to tuck into Gavin's chest. He jumped and went stiff. The phoenix held its position, cooing again. Slowly, unsure and excited, Gavin raised a hand, touched its head. “My little Michael,” he gasped, because the feathers felt softer than silk. The phoenix buried its head further before drawing back. “I guess . . . I'll get my pictures,” Gavin said, bringing his camera up. “You all right?”

The bird nodded, head dipping low due to the long neck. It stretched its wings to beat them once, fanning Gavin. It tickled his sides, and he smiled. “Okay, Michael.”

In the middle of the night, Gavin thought he might need the flash on his camera. But Michael emitted a soft glow from his feathers, enough to light the immediate area. When he turned the camera on and focused the lens, bending his knees to get the right angle, Gavin was surprised at how well the image on the display showed. “You're like a lamp,” he said, giggling. Michael crooned.

Gavin raised the camera again, focused it. His boyfriend was stunning, purple, red and orange feathers blending together and shimmering in their own light to create a fiery rainbow. He snapped a few quick pictures and glanced at the screen to see how they looked. Not as wonderful as looking at the phoenix himself, but better than Gavin thought they would turn out. He smiled again and resumed position.

“Can you raise your wings?” he asked after several more pictures. “I'd love to see what they look like up close.”

Michael obeyed, raising his appendages and holding them as high as he could in the enclosed space. Gavin felt the thrum of his photographer's side running under his skin, the thrill of getting great shots and hoping Michael would stay still long enough for it to look good. Having a subject that understood his requests certainly helped.

Footsteps sounded nearby. Gavin froze when a twig snapped, finger stopped on the plastic button. Michael turned his head in the direction of the noise. It was hot again, so hot, and Gavin squawked with shock as Michael was once again engulfed in fire.

The footsteps sounded closer every second. Michael was barely in human form again when a voice called out, “Who's there?” He scrambled to get his glasses and sweatshirt back on, just as a cop broke through the trees and pointed a flashlight at them both. “What are you two doing out here?”

“Ah.” Gavin had no response, clutching his camera for dear life.

“Taking some photos,” Michael said casually. “My boyfriend has a project coming up and he needed some references from nature.”

“At night?” The officer quirked his eyebrow.

“It's for a dark fantasy mural,” Michael said. Gavin marveled at his quick thinking.

The cop didn't look for a second like he believed either of them. “What was that heat just now? I thought I saw fire.”

Shit, shit, shit, Gavin thought, there was no way to explain that.

“Just the camera flash.” Michael pointed at the device Gavin held with tight fingers. “We took some shots with a brighter setting. Is that an issue?”

The officer waved the flashlight between them. “All right,” he said, eyes narrowed, “but be careful. You might startle other patrons in the park. You shouldn't be in this forest anyway, there's no telling what kind of people spend their time here.”

“Got it. Thanks, officer.” Michael Jones, smooth as silk. Gavin shot him a grateful look.

“Have a nice night.” The cop waved and turned back the way he came through the underbrush.

As soon as he thought the man was out of earshot, Gavin sighed heavily and collapsed into the dirt. “Bloody hell, I thought we'd be arrested.”

“You need to chill.” Michael put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it idly. “That's why I wasn't keen on this in the first place.”

Gavin wondered what might have happened if the cop came a couple seconds earlier. If he saw the flames and thought they were messing with explosives. Worse, if he actually caught Michael in phoenix form and made Gavin wait while he called animal control to take Michael away to the zoo. Granted, Michael would probably be able to get away, but what if he couldn't and he got trapped? Gavin's stomach twisted in a nasty knot.

“I'm sorry,” he said, cradling the camera close as he brought his knees to his face and laid his chin on them. “I shouldn't have asked for this.”

Michael looked down at him. “Don't be sorry, Gavvers.” He knelt beside him. “It worked out fine, and I'll be more careful about where we do this in the future.”

“No.” Gavin shook his head. “We don't have to do this ever again. I don't want to put you at risk, Michael.”

The redhead smiled, kissed him on the cheek. “Let's go home.”

“Yeah.” Gavin got up, tucking the camera in his pocket. “I've had enough excitement for one night.” They held hands the entire way they walked home, neither speaking. Gavin had hoped, after seeing Michael change again, that he could ask some of the questions bothering him. The most important practically screamed at him, but his limbs were shaking and he wouldn't add any stress to their minds. He kept quiet on the walk home, kissed Michael goodnight after they undressed and got into bed, and tried his best to sleep.

* * *

Griffon held good on her promise for a party. It was perfect timing, as well, because Ray Narvaez arrived from New York that weekend to start work as a full time employee. What began as a moving out celebration for Gavin quickly turned into a welcoming party for Ray. Gavin didn't mind, as long as he could have a good time with his friends.

He had wanted to print out the pictures of Michael from last Sunday, but paranoia got the better of him. Every time he considered hooking his camera to a printer or even uploading the photos to his computer, Gavin thought of everything that could happen should someone see them and ask Gavin how he got those pictures, and he would give up, put the camera back in its bag, only looking at the photos in the camera's digital menu.

Geoff warned them of Ray's arrival and that they should welcome him with open arms. Michael couldn't be more excited to see his friend, forgetting the incident in the park. Gavin tried to be excited with him. They went to the Ramseys' the next Saturday an hour before the party to help set up and spend some time with them.

“It feels like it's been ages,” Griffon said when she saw Gavin, hugging him tight at the door. “How is the new place?”

“It's been a week!” Gavin said, hugging her back and burying his nose in her neck, smelling sawdust and paint. “It's great. Michael hogs the bed, but other than that I'm having a good time.”

“Excuse you, who sprawls his limbs across the mattress?” Michael entered beside him and slapped his back. “If I don't take what I can get, I fall off the edge.”

“Gavvy! Michael!” Millie came running out of the kitchen holding a one liter bottle of Mountain Dew. She set it gently on the floor and ran to Gavin, who bent down and scooped her up.

“Hi, Millie.” He swung her around a couple times. “Is Geoff here?”

“Daddy's making the food,” she said, picking the soda back up when she touched ground again. “I'm helping too.”

In the kitchen was an assortment of drinks and snack foods. Geoff had the barbeque lit in the yard, searing steaks for the guests. Millie ran back and forth with bowls and plates to set on the table nested under the back porch. Michael and Gavin followed her out and waved at Geoff. “How's apartment life, Gavin?”

“Not much different from what I expected.” Gavin inhaled the scent of cooked meat with a happy sigh. “Is Ray here yet?”

“Griffon's picking him up when he arrives at the airport. Should be soon.” Geoff pressed a steak with his spatula, the grease hissing in the flames.

Sure enough, Geoff got a text a few minutes later from the new employee, asking for a ride. Griffon pat Gavin on the head and kissed her husband's cheek before she left. Michael and Gavin were put to work on the finishing touches for the gathering. Geoff didn't trust Millie near alcohol, so it fell to them to put beer in coolers and set it outside, as well as set furniture by the pool and ready the trash and recycling cans for the flood of plastic plates and bottles. Millie sat by her father and watched him cook with a quiet fascination.

Twenty minutes later, a voice called from the driveway.

“BrownMan has arrived, and he's hungry!”

Michael beamed as one of his closest friends came through the back door and ran to hug him. “Glad you're finally here, dude.”

“I'm just glad to be off that plane.” Ray returned the hug. “Hey, boss.” He waved at Geoff, and looked at Gavin. They never met in person, but Gavin sat in on Michael's podcasts sometimes. He usually left before they started recording, talking to Ray and Barbara while Michael fiddled with the audio settings on his computer. “Hi, Gavin,” Ray said, smiling.

“Hi, Ray.” Gavin shook his hand. The atmosphere wasn't the best, a bit awkward. It would be hard to beat the sheer pain of Gavin's introduction to Michael, though. Strange to think he acted so distant when he first came to Texas.

“Why don't you make yourself useful and find my stereo?” Geoff asked, glancing at the group. “Griffon, where'd we put it?”

“Hall closet. I'll get it,” she volunteered, disappearing into the house.

Michael and Ray took seats on the porch steps and started chatting. Gavin sat next to Michael, head on his hands. He didn't much feel like a party anymore. A few times, Michael laughed loud and snorted. Gavin's eyes flicked to him, and back, heart twisting a bit.

It was silly to be jealous. Ray and Michael were friends long before Michael even moved to Austin, but the residual guilt from the park made the feelings hard for Gavin to ignore. He wanted Michael to be happy, and he was starting to wonder if he was making that a problem.

When Griffon returned with the stereo, Gavin distracted himself by helping her set it up. It wasn't long until guests started showing, first Jack, then Gus a few minutes later. They talked to Geoff, introduced themselves properly to Ray. More people from the office showed, and they took plates of food the eat during conversational lulls. Griffon picked out a decent radio station, blasting the music. This helped the party feel more like a party. Michael left Ray to make his rounds with various employees, eventually sidled up to Gavin, who was standing by the food table.

“Hey, Gavvers.” He slung an arm over his shoulder. “You okay?”

“I'm good.”

Michael frowned. “You don't look it. Come on, let's eat some food and go swimming.”

Gavin nodded, picking up a plate of chips and assorted fruit. The mention of swimming brought one of his thousand questions for Michael to the surface. It was terrible feeling like he couldn't ask. Gavin took in the growing party, and decided it wouldn't hurt to mention something among the distracted crowd. “Do you have issues with water?”

“What?” Michael was halfway into a cracker with cheese. “Water? No.”

“I mean--” Gavin eyed the pool. “We've been swimming, yeah, but . . .” He looked Michael in the eye, hoping the meaning would come across.

It clicked for him, and he turned to the pool as well. “If I'm in too long, yeah. I get colder and it doesn't feel right. We can still swim, I promise.”

Gavin nudged him gently with his hip. “Be careful, Michael.”

The redhead blushed, shoved him back. “Shut up, stupid. I'm fine.”

Ray chose that moment to walk up out of nowhere, face stuffed with a hotdog. “Hey,” he said through the food. “How are the lovebirds?”

Gavin coughed on a chip. “I'm sorry?”

“What, was that a secret?” Ray finished chewing, looked sheepishly apologetic. “I didn't mean to out you guys.”

“Psh.” Michael rolled his eyes. “We're about as secret as Gavin is American. He just thinks it's funny to pretend the entire world doesn't know. Right, Gav?” Michael smacked his back to dislodge the food Gavin kept choking on, and nabbed his drink from its place on the food table when that didn't work. Gavin took it and drank gratefully.

“Ha, nice.” Ray looked behind him at the pool. “So, I'm sweating. Wanna go for a dip?”

Michael and Gavin brought swimsuits with them, and Ray had one in his luggage, which still sat in Griffon's car. He was moving his stuff to his new apartment after the party. They all changed, their glasses set safely on a table next to one of the pool chairs, and sat poolside for a few minutes, Michael and Gavin downing a beer each and Ray sipping some soda. Gavin already knew he didn't drink, but wasn't aware of the reason. He shrugged it off for now, slipping ever so carefully in the water.

“Don't be a baby,” Michael said, and put a hand to his shoulder.

“Wait--!” Gavin said, too late, as his boyfriend shoved him in. He gasped underwater and got to the surface fast as he could, sputtering. “Michael, why!?” he cried. Michael was giggling, holding his sides.

“Oh, my God,” he spoke between laughs. “You look like a drowned rat!”

Gavin pouted and dove back under, if only to adjust faster to the water since he was already in. He came up once for air and went under again, this time with revenge in mind. He swum near the wall and grabbed for Michael's feet, but they pulled out before he got a grip. Gavin came up again, glowered. “What?” Michael asked. “You thought I'd let you pull me in? Fat chance.”

As he said that, Michael fell forward and into the pool. Gavin jumped back, looked up to see Ray laughing maniacally.

“Motherfucker!” Michael burst to the surface and latched on Ray's hand. The Puerto Rican was pulled in with them before he realized what happened.

“Don't drown!” Geoff called from the other side of the yard. Gavin saw most of the party goers had their eyes on them, quite a few laughing along with Michael, who sniggered and held his shaking stomach again.

As they splashed, dunked each other, and made a general mess of themselves, Gavin couldn't help worrying about Michael. They had a pool next to his apartment, and they often went swimming when it was hot, but this was Geoff's house. At their place, Michael could easily run upstairs and get inside if something happened to him. Here, anything and everything could be seen by the crowd. They weren't safe. It put Gavin on edge.

“You're paying for that!”

Gavin turned to see Ray, spluttering and wiping water from his eyes. Michael emerged behind him with a grin. Ray paused long enough for Gavin to gather that he had been dunked again, before he took revenge on Michael by grabbing both his shoulders and shoving him under the water. They flipped and wrestled beneath the surface, while Gavin watched and hoped they didn't get hurt.

Ray came back up a few seconds later, grabbed for the edge of the pool. He coughed a couple times, dislodging water from his lungs. Gavin swum to him, expecting Michael to pop up and prepared to suggest they take a break and get some more food.

But Michael didn't resurface. Gavin glanced at the water when he didn't and saw his figure still at the bottom of the pool. Not moving.

Instinct kicked in. Gavin shot off the wall, dove as fast as his body would let him. He kicked off the concrete beside him to give him a boost, put his arms around Michael the second he reached him. Michael felt cold, eyes closed. Gavin almost choked right there as his mind spun into panic mode. He snapped to reality and got a tight grip on his boyfriend, pushing off the floor of the pool, gasping in air as he broke the top and struggled to carry Michael out.

“Holy shit! Somebody, help!” Ray was on them in a second, grabbing Michael from the other side to drag him out. Several people saw them and rushed over. It was Jack and Joel who reached them first and pulled Michael free. Gavin and Ray scrambled out of the water.

“Michael! Michael, can you hear me?” Gavin bent next to him and pat his face. Still his skin felt cold, a bad sign for anyone, but especially terrifying for Michael.

“Back off!” Geoff pushed his way through and knelt on the other side of Michael. “I know CPR, everybody gimme space.”

In his peripheral, Gavin could see several people with phones to call 911. He focused on Geoff, who put his hand in front of Michael's nose to confirm breathing, and evidently found none because the next thing he did was tilt Michael's head back. “Somebody give me a paper towel or napkin!”

A guest produced a napkin shortly. Geoff took it, opened Michael's jaw, and placed the napkin over his lips. He held his nose closed, took a deep breath, and leaned down. Gavin's heart felt like a hammer in his ribs as Geoff gave Michael emergency care.

Three deep breaths and blows into Michael's mouth, and his body convulsed. Geoff snapped back immediately, as Michael coughed up water and tried to breathe. His eyes fluttered open. Gavin never thought he would be so glad to see that shimmering brown color in his life as Michael turned to him with a confused, angry look. “What happened?” His voice was course and scratchy.

“Can you breathe?” Geoff asked before Gavin could answer.

Michael's eyes flicked over to him. “Barely.”

Geoff pressed his hands to Michael's chest, feeling his heartbeat. “Your color is coming back and your heart seems regular. Wait here, I'll get you a towel and something to drink.”

“Already ahead of you, sweetie.” From the substantial crowd that had gathered around them Griffon popped through with a beach towel and a glass of water. She gave them to Geoff and put a hand behind Michael to help him sit up. Geoff dumped the towel over his head and gave him the water. Michael took it with a shaky hand, sipped gingerly.

“Dude, I am so sorry.” Ray stood next to Gavin, fists clenched. “I didn't mean to, to drown you. It was messing around.” He sounded on the verge of punching himself.

“It's cool,” Michael said, though he sounded anything but forgiving. Gavin frowned, put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it. Michael gave him a weak smile and drank more water.

“Let's get you inside.” Griffon got up and offered a hand to Michael. He took it, wavering a bit as he stood. Gavin grabbed his other arm to steady him, and the three made their way to the back door. Ray watched from the poolside, glaring at nothing in particular.

The EMTs came fifteen minutes after Michael settled himself on the Ramseys' couch, Gavin at his side and Griffon behind him, rubbing the towel in his hair. To Gavin's surprise, one of the two men was the one they met when Gavin got hurt on his and Michael's first date. He recognized him as soon as Gavin opened his mouth to explain the situation. “How's the arm?” he asked, while he checked Michael's pulse.

“Much better, thanks,” Gavin answered, more concerned with how Michael was doing.

“Lucky you guys had someone who knew CPR,” the other man said when they finished checking Michael over. “He'll be fine. Let him rest for a while, and get plenty of fluids.”

“Thank you,” Griffon said, once more occupying herself with getting Michael dry.

Eventually, though, she left the two of them alone to inform the rest of the party on Michael's condition. Gavin stayed with him, holding his hand when Michael took it and grasped it tight.

“You're cold.” Gavin looked at his skin, normal as far as appearance.

“Closer to your temperature,” Michael said, trying to laugh. He only ended up coughing, and sipped his water again. “Kinda glad for it. If I were as hot as usual, the paramedics might have insisted I go to the hospital.”

“What happened to you?”

It was sudden and probably rude to ask, but Gavin had to know.

Michael knew what he meant, staring at the glass in his hand. “Choked on some water when Ray dunked me. Forgot to swim up.”

“You forgot?” Gavin almost shrieked. Michael flinched, frowned at him. “How do you forget to swim to the surface?”

“It's--” Michael stopped, sighed. “Water isn't a problem for me most of the time. But when I get in a situation like that, if I inhale it or if I stay under too long, my body sort of shuts down. I'm a living flame, Gavin, I don't like the feeling of being extinguished.”

So he almost died because his body didn't have the same reflexes as humans. Drowning a person took a lot of effort. Not true in Michael's case. “I don't want to go swimming ever again,” Gavin said, firm and determined.

“Hey, hey.” Michael squeezed his hand and looked him in the eye. “This doesn't mean anything, Gav. It was an accident.”

“And how many more accidents are there going to be!?” Gavin gulped, swallowing the next bout of yelling. More calm, he said, “We almost got caught by that police officer. You've nearly drowned. What's next? I keep getting you in trouble.”

Michael took his hand away from Gavin to smack him in the head. He yelped in surprise, put a hand on the offended spot. Michael glared at him. “None of that is your fault, idiot. Don't ever think it is. This is my body, my responsibility.”

“But--”

“No fucking buts.” Michael smacked him again. “I've lived with humans on and off for hundreds of years. I've been in close calls dozens of times. Just because I fell in love with you doesn't change the fact that I'm gonna get in trouble sometimes. So relax and don't you dare blame yourself.”

His head was throbbing from the hits. Gavin rubbed it gingerly and met Michael's stern gaze. He stayed silent, waiting for his expression to soften. “Is it hard?” he finally asked, as Michael showed no inclination to stop glaring. “Living with people you don't really belong to,” Gavin clarified as Michael changed from angry to mystified.

“Oh.” He blinked, and shrugged. “Yeah, a lot of the time. The alternative is being the only one of my kind and flying around forever with no one to talk to.”

Gavin could imagine not wanting that. “And I'm the first one you told about all this?”

“Yeah.” Michael leaned into him, tucking his head under Gavin's neck. “You're the first person I thought would stick around if I told them.”

“Of course, Michael. I love you, always.”

Michael didn't say anything to that. Gavin waited, but he stayed silent, so the Brit kissed him on top of his head. “Something wrong?”

“N-no.” Michael shoved off and glared. “Can't I rest after almost drowning?”

“I didn't say you couldn't!” Gavin laughed a bit, and smiled as he settled down. “I want to make your life as a human as good as I can,” he said suddenly.

Michael grinned at him. “You already do, Gavvers.” He kissed Gavin, slow and sweet. The Brit grinned against his lips, glad his boyfriend wasn't in danger of dying.

Neither of them noticed Geoff standing in the doorway, fresh towel in hand, a baffled, worried look on his face.


	3. I never tried harder to push you away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deciding on a life together takes time, effort, and maturity that neither Michael or Gavin have.

After a thousand reassurances that Michael doesn't blame him for what happened, Ray stops apologizing, and is back to his usual self when work starts Monday morning. Michael's desk is shoved flush against Gavin's, both moved several feet, to make room for Ray's new workspace. This suits Gavin and Michael fine, able to sidle up to each other and, in Michael's case, tackle, with more ease than before. Gavin initiates almost all contact, hugging and rubbing up on Michael as he works. Jack takes his chance to tease them about it when he can.

Geoff, who they expected to comment on their extreme PDA, was oddly silent. He kept his eyes on his computer and rarely spoke except to answer questions from Ray. Gavin glanced behind him a few times, concerned for his friend. Not only was he not talking, but he had a surprising lack of beer in his hands. He always had at least one during lunch, but today he stayed inside with Gavin and didn't drink a thing. That was an extreme red flag.

“You all right?” Gavin asked, glad Michael, Ray, and Jack had left. Some things Geoff wouldn't talk about in front of the others.

“Yeah.” Geoff spoke in a monotone, editing a Trials File.

“You don't look it.” Gavin pushed his chair over to his desk, put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you upset about what happened at the party?”

Geoff flinched, the slightest twitch of his fingers trying to curl into his palm. He straightened them out on the keyboard, but Gavin noticed the movement. “It is, isn't it? Michael's not mad at anyone, Geoff, I promise.”

“I know.” Geoff had ceased work, staring at his monitor.

“So what's up?”

Geoff didn't answer. Gavin waited a long few minutes, and rolled back to his desk. If Geoff wanted to sulk, fine. He wasn't going to stop him, and busied himself with looking for the game disk he set down some time ago to load and check for recording glitches.

“I heard you and Michael.”

Gavin stopped mid motion, hand in the air. “What?”

“I heard you,” Geoff repeated, spinning to face him. “At the party, talking on the couch.”

“Okay?” Gavin hoped Geoff wasn't talking about what he thought he could be talking about. Play dumb, act casual. He kept his head down, continued his search for the disk.

“It sounded weird,” Geoff continued, slow with an elevated volume, as if talking to a child. “Something about 'living with humans' and Michael being 'the only one of his kind.'” He emphasized the suspicious words, guaranteeing Gavin knew exactly what bothered him. The Brit refused to meet his eyes, because shit, he did mean what he thought, and Michael was going to be outed and there was nothing Gavin could do except lie to the man he trusted for so long with his own well being.

“Um.” He gulped. “T-That's a game we play. We're into some kinky stuff.” Embarrassing enough to want to hide, to warrant Gavin's reactions. One of his better lies.

Geoff didn't fall for it. Gavin could swear he had a built in lie detector. “Bullshit. What were you two talking about?”

Gavin struggled to come up with something, anything. His mind flailed. He thought of everything Michael showed him, told him, their nights together and the heat of his skin and Gavin's own confusion, how was he going to lie about this, Geoff would call him out until he admitted it.

The door opened and broke the trance the two men were locked in. Ray, Michael, and Jack spilled in smelling like pizza. Ray carried a small box and sat down beside Gavin. The scent told him it was a slice of pepperoni Ray must have taken back with him. Michael smiled, thumped Gavin's shoulder. “Get a lot of work done, Gav?”

“Y-Yeah.” Gavin tried to smile. “How was lunch?”

“Tasty. Sad to have to get back to business.” Michael plopped in his chair with a happy sigh.

Gavin glanced at Geoff, who frowned, eyes narrowed in a way that told Gavin this discussion wasn't over, not by a long shot.

The discomfort stayed with him throughout the day, fingers tingling and hair on his neck raised in nervous suspicion every time Geoff so much as moved. Michael picked up on Gavin's mood, reaching his foot under the desks to tap Gavin, both a comfort and a question. Gavin flashed an apologetic smile.

The minute they were alone, walking back to the apartment, Michael cornered Gavin.

“What's wrong?” He looked at him curiously. “You've been jittery.”

“Oh, you know,” Gavin said, brushing it off. “Tired, I guess.”

“Hm.” Michael bumped him in the side. “I'll make us dinner, then, okay?”

Gavin nodded, his mind elsewhere.

He didn't dare leave himself alone with Geoff after that. He clung to Michael like a security blanket, aware that Geoff didn't want to confront Michael about it until he had Gavin's story, which he seemed determined to get. Gavin went with Michael to lunch every day that week, even when he had a large amount of work and it would have served him better not to go. He rarely left for bathroom breaks or to get a snack from the kitchen, only going when Michael went. Geoff kept himself in check and only gave Gavin meaningful looks when he knew no one else could see it.

While the miniature war happened in the background, the entire office settled in with Ray's presence. He turned out to be as good a personality as Geoff thought, excellent at most games but relaxed enough that he wouldn't beat everyone into a pulp each time. He was witty and quick to respond, spurting jokes that made them laugh until their sides hurt. And he was willing to self deprecate, a necessary trait for a job where much of the humor was derived from making fun of themselves and each other. The Let's Plays their group had begun focusing on turned out better whenever Ray was in them.

This helped to stifle the bad mood Gavin could constantly sense from Geoff. The man hated curiosity left to hang, and this was a horrible case of it. Gavin wished he could be honest, but Michael's safety mattered more than Geoff's sanity.

“Hey, Gavin,” Geoff said, innocent as you please, that Friday. “Why don't you stay with us tonight? Griffon and Millie miss you.”

No way would he be falling for that. “No, thanks, Geoffrey, Michael and I have plans to do whatever the hell we want in our apartment.”

“Actually,” Michael said, removing his headphones, “I think that'd be a good idea. I have to work on the Internet Box anyway, and it's been a while since we had time to ourselves. I'm fucking suffocated,” he added with a smirk. “Go play at Geoff's.”

Gavin's heart beat faster, he panicked. He could practically feel Geoff grinning smugly into the back of his head. “I wanna be with you, Michael.”

“As if you wouldn't love to go back there for a while.” Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. “Gimme one good excuse not to go.”

Gavin had none and Michael knew it. Perhaps he did want some space from the constant clinging and time to work on his own projects, but if Gavin got left alone with Geoff for more than a minute it was all over. “I . . . I . . .” He stuttered, unable to speak.

“That's what I thought.” Michael nudged Gavin's knee with his own. “Go home with Geoff, I'll see you whenever you decide to leave. Spend the entire weekend there for all I care.”

“Some boyfriend,” Gavin muttered. Michael laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

“All right then, dipshit, let's get out of here.” Geoff tugged his chair back and jutted his head toward the door. With a groan and a pleading look at Michael, to which he responded with an unsympathetic tongue stuck from his lips, Gavin followed Geoff out the office, to the parking lot.

“I'm not gonna ask you right now, so relax,” Geoff said when they got in his car. “My family actually does miss you, for whatever reason. You can hang out with them and try to hide as long as you like.”

As usual, Geoff saw right through him. “Thanks,” Gavin said, with a bit more sarcasm than necessary. Geoff put the key in and started the engine, driving Gavin to what he was sure would be his doom.

Griffon was waiting with Millie in her lap, both jumping from the couch when Gavin entered the living room. With a final suspicious glance at Geoff, Gavin turned and hugged them both, first Millie and then Griffon. “We've missed having you here,” Griffon said, beaming at him.

“I missed you too.” Gavin saw Geoff leave from the corner of his eye and breathed a sigh of relief. “Let's talk for a while, yeah?”

Geoff returned with a bowl of chips and set it on their coffee table. He settled himself in the armchair, watching idly while Gavin and Griffon caught up. Gavin looked at him a few times, but Geoff did nothing more than smile. It sent shivers up Gavin's spine.

Eventually, Griffon rose and said, “Time for dinner. I'll order us something. How's Chinese sound?” Gavin nodded, Griffon disappeared to the kitchen.

Thankfully Millie stayed with them, now curled in her father's lap, while Griffon went to the phone. Gavin avoided eye contact. Unfortunately, Griffon returned with the car keys swinging on one finger. “Who wants to go with me to get the food?”

“I will!” Millie jumped up and ran to Griffon.

“Great, you can have girl time,” Geoff said. Gavin shot him a look that Geoff pretended not to notice. “Gav and I can play the new DLC I downloaded.”

“Sounds good. See you boys in a bit.” Terror found its way to the pit of Gavin's stomach as the only blockade between himself and Geoff disappeared through the doorway, and he flinched when the front door slammed shut.

Geoff stood and lumbered to the Xbox, turning it on and gathering controllers. He tossed one to Gavin, sat beside him. “There's supposed to be a couple new missions in Halo,” he said, clicking through the Xbox Live menu.

“Right.” Gavin swallowed hard.

The game started as casual as Gavin could hope for, blasting through enemies and going after key items. His body loosened and his senses dropped alertness. As Gavin fell prey to too many opponents and started dying, Geoff yelled at him, and he was feeling easier.

“I don't know how it's possible to die so many times,” Geoff griped, nudging Gavin in the arm. “How the fuck did you walk right into an explosion?”

“Well, Geoffrey, we're not all perfect.” Gavin revived again and trailed after Geoff, eager to finish their job. Griffon and Millie should be getting back with the food soon, and if he were lucky Geoff wouldn't bring up Michael before they returned.

“So,” Geoff said, a couple minutes later, “you wanna tell me the truth about what I heard this weekend?”

Gavin never did have great luck.

“It was nothing,” he said forcefully. “Just drop it.”

“I'm not gonna drop it, Gav.” Geoff kept his eyes on his character, but his tone was the fatherly one he only used when telling Gavin something for his own good. “If Michael's got you playing some twisted power game where he's a god or something--”

“For God's sake, that's not it!” Gavin growled. “Michael isn't taking advantage of me!” He dropped his controller and faced Geoff, scowling. “What we were talking about is none of your fucking business, so shut up and leave it alone!”

Geoff put his controller down and leaned back, assessing Gavin. It was not the first time the Brit yelled at him, but probably the first time he used such force in his voice. Gavin was careful not to anger Geoff at any given time, seeing as the man sponsored his visa and sheltered him for several years. This was the last straw, however. If lying wouldn't work, he had to tell him straight up it wasn't his right to know. “Michael told me not to tell anyone,” Gavin said, when he calmed a bit. “Whatever you heard, forget about it. Michael might tell you if he wants to, but if you say anything about overhearing us, he's going to feel scared, and pressured, and betrayed.”

Geoff stared a long time, nostrils flared. No one challenged him, and if they did, he stood his ground. A trait left from the army, most likely. Gavin stared right back, because damn if anyone forced him to say something he didn't want to. Geoff's eyes narrowed.

“What about that shit about being a living flame and water being dangerous?”

Gavin sighed and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. “Give it up, Geoffrey.”

“I wanna know what the fuck is happening with my employee!”

Gavin shot up, hands balled into fists. He stared down at his boss. “It's not your place to know!” he shouted, loud enough he was sure the neighbors might hear. “Stop fucking asking!”

“What's going on here?”

Both men whipped their heads to the doorway. Griffon stood with four aluminum trays in one hand, the other on her hip, a confused frown on her face. Millie hid behind her. “What's all the shouting?” Griffon asked again when they didn't answer.

“Nothing. I'm going to bed.” Gavin walked around the couch and past Griffon. “Tell Geoff I'll talk to him when he's not being an arse,” he said as he disappeared down the hall and into his old bedroom.

It looked almost like he left it, a single bed, table, dresser, and lamp. The television was gone, moved somewhere more useful in the house, which Gavin expected. He didn't feel like watching TV anyway. He slid into bed and drew the covers up to his chin. Geoff would never understand Michael's problem, let alone keep it a secret. Gavin felt sure of that much.

He repeated that lie to comfort himself as he tried to sleep.

* * *

Gavin slept in spurts, waking every hour or so. Multiple times he wondered why he felt so cold, and realized it was perfectly warm, he just didn't have Michael with him to raise his body temperature several degrees. He got up once to get a glass of water and caught Geoff snoozing on the couch. He wondered if it was by choice or if Griffon forced him there.

Gavin rubbed his eyes when he finally woke at a reasonable hour and decided to get up for good. He stretched and straightened his clothes, wrinkled from sleeping in them. He peeked out his door, saw no one, went to the kitchen to get food.

Geoff was there, making French toast. Gavin froze in the doorway. Geoff looked up.

“Don't be a baby,” he said. “I'm not going to grill you, so get your fucking breakfast.”

He still sounded mildly pissed. Gavin kept as far from Geoff as he could in the small area and rummaged in the fridge. Last night's Chinese was put away, and he grabbed a box of rice, wasting no time retreating to the living room.

Griffon smiled when he came in, marking the page in her book with a finger. “Morning, sweetie.”

“Morning.” Gavin sat on the couch with her. “Is Millie all right?”

Griffon pursed her lips. “She didn't like the shouting much. I got her to calm down after a while, though. Poor dear.”

“I'm sorry about that.” If there was one thing Gavin never wanted to do, it was upset Millie.

“It's fine. I blame Geoff, really.” Griffon put a bookmark in her novel and set it aside. “He told me there was something about Michael that you wouldn't tell him, and I told him that it's your and Michael's business and he's a prick for butting in.”

Gavin smiled a bit. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Griffon ruffled his hair, which stuck up in more directions than usual because he hadn't brushed it yet. “He did say he thought it was important, though. Is Michael in any danger?”

“N-- no, he's not.”

Griffon caught the stumbled word. “Are you sure?”

Gavin looked away. He didn't want to lie to Griffon.

She sighed. “Honey, if something is wrong, I have to take Geoff's side on this. At least ask Michael about it. Tell him Geoff is worried. Because he really is. He wants to make sure his employees are happy.”

“Fine,” Gavin agreed. “But if I have to ask Michael, I don't think I can stay the whole weekend. It's gonna be chewing me up.”

“Fair enough.” She ruffled his hair again. “Why don't we spend today doing something fun, then? I've been meaning to go shopping. Does that sound good to you?”

Surprisingly, it did.

Griffon told Geoff their plans. They had to wait for Millie to wake up and eat, but she was just as excited about the prospect of a shopping trip as Griffon was. They piled in the car, Geoff and Griffon up front and Gavin in back with Millie, to go to the nearest mall.

Being out and about kept Gavin's mind off the prospect of asking Michael to tell his biggest secret to yet another person. He browsed the shops, most of his attention on the games at FYE. He picked up a couple he thought Michael would like, as well as an extra SD card for his camera. Griffon spent a long time in the craft store, sniffing out any good art supplies. Gavin trailed after her, Geoff and Millie gone to explore the nearest toy store. They came back with a yo-yo that Millie flicked up and down as they continued walking through the mall.

The family went to Arby's for lunch, and returned home shortly after. Gavin tucked his purchases away in his room. Geoff wanted to try a game he bought for himself, so he went to the living room and settled in. Gavin glanced at Geoff every few seconds, still wary of interrogation.

Geoff said nothing else about their fight. They played video games the rest of the afternoon, and popped a comedy movie on for the evening. Millie came to sit between them while Griffon reheated leftover eggrolls and steamed vegetables for dinner.

Gavin checked his watch when the movie ended. “I should be getting home.” He pulled out his phone to text Michael.

“I'll drive you,” Geoff said, giving a sleeping Millie to Griffon.

“Okay.” Gavin hurried to get his belongings and follow Geoff out to the car. Michael texted him back as he was getting in. Lonely without me? Michael asked. Gavin knew he was being sarcastic and typed out a snarky reply.

“You really like Michael, huh?” Geoff eyed the phone, turned back to the road.

Gavin wasn't about to ask how Geoff knew who he was texting. “I love him, Geoff.”

That stopped him short. Geoff frowned in disbelief, almost forgetting to drive forward when a stoplight turned green. “You love him?” he asked, keeping his eyes forward.

“Yeah. You sound surprised.”

“I am.” Geoff tapped the steering wheel, thinking. “You don't date a lot, and you've broken up with girls for some shitty reasons. I'm not sure I've ever seen you in love.”

“I've loved Michael for a while.” Gavin blushed a bit, stared at his hands. “That's why I want to keep his secret a secret, Geoff. I really care about him. I might--” He stopped himself short, about to go down a road Gavin wasn't sure he would ever want to go down.

Geoff didn't call him on it. “I respect that, I guess. Sorry for pushing.”

“It's all right.”

They came to the apartment and stopped in front of the complex. Michael was waiting outside. Gavin got out and bent by the driver's side window. Geoff rolled it down. “Thanks for having me,” Gavin said. “Griffon told me you're worried about us. If Michael wants to let his secret out, you'll be first to know.”

“Right, right. Get back to your boyfriend, stupid.” Geoff flashed a grin that Gavin hadn't seen in a while. He grinned back and moved away from the car to give Geoff room to drive.

Michael came up to him, brow raised. “What was that?”

“Just telling Geoff something. Hey, look.” Gavin lifted the plastic FYE bag. “I got new games.”

“Excellent.” Michael took his hand as they walked to the building. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Yeah, but I could go for some more food.”

Michael snorted. “You always can.”

* * *

Sunday was lazy. Gavin slept in after his rough sleep the day before, curling gratefully into Michael's heat. Eventually hunger and a need to use the bathroom won out over tiredness, and Gavin forced himself to get up. Michael let him have the bathroom first, making breakfast in the meantime.

His promise to Geoff loomed over Gavin. He said he would ask Michael. But just knowing someone heard their conversation might be enough to set him off. Gavin had to go about this gently, and let the idea simmer in his head while he finished showering, coming out to the smell of toast.

Michael washed while Gavin ate, and they sat around on the couch watching bad morning TV after cleaning up the kitchen. Gavin lay on Michael's chest. “How was the stay?” Michael asked, threading his fingers through Gavin's hair.

“Fine. Went shopping and played games. The usual, really.”

“Hm.”

“Did you-- did you transform at all?” The best way to approach the subject was bluntly, in Michael's case. Gavin looked up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, I did.” Michael didn't look away from the TV. “I shouldn't have to again for a few days.”

“Ah, good.” Gavin settled back against his chest and bit his lip. “Um, I should tell you something.”

His tone got Michael's attention. The redhead glanced down at him, reached for the remote to turn the television off. “Spit it out.”

Gavin shifted to sit up and look at Michael directly. He wished things were simple, that he and Michael could have a normal relationship without complications. Wishing wouldn't do him good right now, though. “It's about Geoff,” he started. “He has . . . questions.”

Michael tensed. “Did he see something?”

“No, no.” Gavin shook his head. “But . . . he did . . . hear us. Talking, at his house. During the party.”

Michael stared at Gavin, looking for some sign of relief, that this wasn't what he thought. “Shit.” He clenched his fists. “Shit. Fuck. How much did he hear?”

Gavin flinched. “Almost all of it, I think. He's not really sure what we meant, since we were being a bit vague at the time. But he asked me about it.”

Michael didn't respond, flexing his fingers. He looked about ready to punch something. Gavin stiffened, ready to stop him if necessary. “What did he ask?” Michael finally said, terse, barely holding back from yelling.

Gavin gulped. “He asked what we were talking about with you not being human, and why water was a risk for you and stuff. I didn't tell him anything!” Gavin said, before Michael jumped to conclusions. “Geoff kept asking all weekend. I got mad at him. Griffon intervened and told me Geoff is worried about you, that he wants to be sure we're okay. I'm not sure how much he actually said and what she inferred, but I think Geoff means well.”

Michael couldn't really argue with that. Geoff was an excellent boss and father figure for everyone in the office. “So he still doesn't know?”

Gavin shook his head again. “Nothing yet. Griffon told me to ask you if you wanted to tell him. I promised Geoff I would. Sorry,” he added when Michael glared.

He pursed his lips, sighed. “It's fine.” Michael leaned back against the couch. “I just . . . I wonder if I should have kept it hidden.”

“Kept what hidden?”

“You know.” Michael waved his hand in the air. “That I'm a phoenix.”

“I like knowing,” Gavin said right away, and took Michael's hand. “It's nice not to wonder about all the stuff you were keeping before. You can trust me not to tell anyone.”

“I know,” Michael said, as though it were obvious. “But . . . I don't want to put a burden on you. You said you got mad at Geoff over this. You shouldn't have to deal with my problems, especially if they get between you and other people.”

Gavin shrugged. “I'm fine. Geoff and I don't stay mad at each other. And if we're gonna be together, we should share problems, right? That's what Griffon and Geoff say to each other when one of them is upset.”

“Hm.” Michael tapped his fingers on his leg, thinking about something. Gavin watched him bite his lip and lick it a couple times. He almost asked what it was, but Michael leaned back on the couch and opened his arms. Gavin settled back against him, no longer paying any attention to the television. Michael put a hand on his stomach, tracing circles.

A while later, maybe an hour or so, Gavin wasn't sure, Michael said, “Hey, Gavin?”

“Yeah?” Gavin sat up a bit.

Michael licked his lips, looked at Gavin, away, and back again. “You know . . . you know that I don't age, right?”

Gavin blinked, surprised, and sat up proper. “Ah-- well--” he stuttered. “W-what do you mean?”

Michael rolled his eyes, not one for patience. “What I meant, literally. You wanted to know about phoenix stuff. So I should tell you, I don't actually age.”

In context, that should make sense. Michael mentioned more than once that he lived for hundreds of years, all phoenixes did, before they died and regenerated. Gavin had pushed the thought away, the concept foreign, hard to wrap his head around.

He put a hand behind his neck and rubbed the skin there. “How's that work?” Gavin asked, trying not to seem too startled, lest Michael regret telling him and withdraw.

Michael didn't meet his eyes as he spoke. “Phoenixes live for five hundred years. I've used about three hundred of those. I have a couple centuries left before I die.” He took a deep breath. “Until I do, I won't age. I grew up into an adult form and stayed this way.” Michael looked at his hands, flexed them, watched the tendons move. “When it's time for me to regenerate, I'll age all at once, let time catch up to me, so my frail body can more easily be consumed by the fire that creates the new phoenix.”

The speech sounded like something from a fairy tale. Gavin listened intently, processed the words slowly. “So . . . you'll stay like this, twenty five, until you die?”

“I'll look about twenty five, yeah.” Michael rolled his knuckles, unwilling to look Gavin in the eye. “I won't be able to age with you, Gav.” His voice was suddenly low, apprehensive.

It was all well and good to learn more about Michael, but the topic seemed sudden and out of place. Gavin turned it over in his mind, and it clicked with him that this might be something Michael avoided talking about. He leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning Michael to him. “Why did you bring this up now?”

Michael's nostrils flared. He jerked his cheek from Gavin's hand. “You said Griffon and Geoff share problems. Well, I didn't share this one with you. It's . . . been eating at me for a while, actually.”

Why didn't you tell me earlier, Gavin wanted to say. He bit the words back. “What were you going to do if people noticed?”

Michael answered fast, expecting this question. “I move from place to place before people notice I'm not aging. I've had dozens of lives between my times as a bird, though I guess this is my first time with parents.” The redhead chuckled to himself. “My mom thought I was an unruly eighteen year old punk in foster care when she took me in, and I kinda fell into a home without thinking.”

Gavin sat back, tried to absorb this. “Did you move to Austin to get away from your family?”

“Pfft, nah.” Michael smiled a bit. “I love my parents, but I was crowding them. I thought playing video games for a living would be fun, and give them space. I never thought . . .” He met Gavin's eyes, hopeful and worried. “Are you pissed at me?”

“No.” Gavin shook his head. “I'm not sure . . . what this means, though. For us.”

Michael lost the hope in his eyes and cast them downward. “I don't know.”

A man that never aged. Anyone who found out would want Michael for themselves. He could generate money or fame. Biologists would want to study him, find out the secret to his youth. The thought of his boyfriend as a novelty made Gavin want to gag.

He settled on making sure he understood the matter. “You'd be twenty five when I'm thirty?”

A pause. “Yeah.”

“Forty?”

“Yes.”

“Eighty?”

“Fucking yes, Gavin, stop making me think about it!” Michael glared, fists ready to punch something and shaking with the effort to hold back.

“If it was bothering you, why'd you keep it from me?” Gavin glared right back.” I already knew you weren't human, this isn't exactly life changing news.”

“But it is!” Michael insisted. “Gavin, I can't have a life with you.”

“Pish,” Gavin snorted. “You're still you, Michael.”

“You don't understand!” Michael stood from the couch, anger radiating outward. “I-- I didn't tell you because I knew you'd hate to be the one getting old while I'm sitting here in this body that never fucking ages, because I can't be human and I never planned to meet someone I'd want to grow old with!”

Gavin flinched at the volume. Michael was panting, worked tight as a piano wire. He must have been agonizing over this. Michael rarely got this upset. Gavin thought he saw a gleam in his eyes, like he might cry. The Brit looked at him, wishing he could help and not knowing how. What did you do when the love of your life told you they were essentially immortal? Gavin stood with him, took Michael's hand, drew him close, putting an arm around his shoulder. He was glad when Michael didn't shake him off.

“Calm down,” Gavin cooed. “I'm not upset.”

“You should be.” Michael sounded like a mix of angry and defeated.

Gavin wasn't sure what else to say, and went with the only thing he knew. “I love you, Michael. I'm not going to leave.”

“They're going to know, Gavin.” Michael pushed him away then. “If I stay here and never age, they're all going to know. I'll have to leave Austin whether I like it or not.”

“Then . . .” Gavin bit the inside of his cheek, searched for an answer. “I'll go with you.”

Michael glared again. “I'm not letting you uproot your life for me.”

“But I love you.” Gavin put a hand on Michael's head, running his fingers through the curls. “I want to be with you. I can handle not being in Austin if that's what you want.” The truth behind the statement was questionable. Gavin loved it here and he would never want to leave Rooster Teeth. Michael needed him, though. And they could talk about this later. The issue wasn't pressing, was it?

Michael said nothing. Gavin moved his face to look at him again and kissed him. “If I'm not put off by you being a firebird, I won't be put off by this. To be honest, I wondered how the age thing worked. Most people would love to stay young forever.”

“Not when everyone else gets old.” Michael kissed Gavin in return, harsh and needy.

“A blessing and a curse, yeah?” Gavin tried to hug him again, end the issue for the night.

Michael wouldn't let him, pushing away. “I don't think you get this.”

“I get it just fine.” Gavin reached for the remote, Michael slapped it from his hand. Gavin jumped, looked at Michael. “What?”

“You really want to stay with me your whole life?” Michael narrowed his eyes. “It'd be miserable for both of us! I'd be guilty all the time and you'd have to leave everyone you know.”

“It's all right--” Gavin tried to say.

“It is not.” Michael huffed. “It's not okay, it never will be.”

“Michael!” Gavin put his hands on Michael's shoulders. “We can talk about this later, it's not an issue now. Don't make this a fight!”

“What if I want to fight?!” Michael pushed Gavin's chest, hard. Gavin yelped, tumbled back, head hitting the floor, chest burning.

Burning?

Gavin checked his shirt, saw steam coming from it. He screamed, scrambled to rip the cloth away and look at his skin. It was bright pink, the hair singed and smoking. He laid still, unable to think what to do.

“Oh, my God.”

Michael was knelt by him in a heartbeat, touching the wound. “Jesus, Gavin, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that.” Gavin flinched when he put his hand on the burn. “I'll get a cold towel, stay here.” Michael jumped and rushed to the kitchen.

Gavin stared at his chest. Michael burned him. He actually burned him. Michael said his fire didn't hurt anyone unless he meant for it to. And he'd hurt Gavin.

“Here.” Michael came back, pressed a soaked dish towel on Gavin. He hissed at the pain, tried to draw away. Michael kept a hand on one shoulder to stop him. “Hold still,” he said, quiet.

“You--” Gavin tripped over his words, mind on the burn. “You're really worked up about this, aren't you.” Not a question.

Michael kept his eyes from him. “I guess.”

“How long have you been thinking about it?” The burn didn't concern Gavin so much as what it meant, the kind of stress Michael had to be under to inflict something like that. Holy shit, his phoenix boyfriend burned him, his mind screamed, as Gavin simply stared and waited for an answer.

“A long time.” Michael pressed the towel again. “Hang on, I think I have a cream for this.”

Several minutes of rubbing burn ointment on Gavin's chest and debating whether his shirt could be saved, ultimately deciding it was ruined, and Michael settled with Gavin back on the couch. Gavin flinched with every movement. Michael twitched at the signs of pain. “I'm so sorry, Gavin.”

“It's-- all right.” Gavin swallowed. “Well, maybe I'm a bit minged off, but it's nothing I can't deal with. You were just worked up, right?” He looked at Michael.

Michael didn't meet his eyes. “This can't be solved with one conversation, Gav.”

“Never said it could,” Gavin said, shaking his head. “But we'll get to that. Right now, let's relax and keep watching TV, yeah?”

Michael finally looked up, stared at Gavin a long time, debating with himself. Gavin smiled and kissed him again. That seemed to convince Michael for now. He laid back and let Gavin back into his position on his chest, wrapping an arm over his neck, wary of the injury. “I'm not letting this rest,” Michael reminded him.

“Sure, sure. Turn the telly on.”

Michael stayed stiff and quiet. Gavin turned up the volume on the TV to cover the uncomfortable silence.

The rest of the day was like that, laying around doing nothing. Neither man cared to move from the couch, even to eat, so they went a bit hungry to stay where they were. The tension in Michael's muscles melted as time passed and the edginess from their talk was put to the back of their minds. Still, each time Gavin groaned or complained about his burn, Michael's lips turned to a thin line, and he wouldn't look at Gavin again the entire time they lay together.

Before either was aware, it had gotten dark, and they scrapped a quick dinner from the fridge and got to bed early. The heavy conversation wiped them both out. Michael was stiff and on edge, even as they tossed their clothes off and climbed under the sheets. Gavin curled into Michael, tucked beneath his chin and nuzzling his chest. The wound stung, not enough to deter him.

“This will all work out,” he said quietly, meeting Michael's eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

The redhead frowned, but nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” He didn't believe Gavin, of course.

Gavin returned to his position, one hand on Michael's hip and the other against his chest. As his lids fell and sleep overcame him, Gavin thought he heard Michael saying something else. But he was too far gone to register what it was, and made a mental note to ask him in the morning.

* * *

As per usual, Gavin woke up by himself. He liked it better when Michael stayed with him the whole night, but he had a skill for detecting when Gavin's body got too hot for its own good and he disentangled himself to get a glass of water or take a needed nighttime fly outside. Something felt off, though, when Gavin opened his eyes and saw an empty bed beside him.

It struck him as he sat up. Sunlight poured in the window, casting a barely discernible pattern on the carpet. Gavin always woke up shortly after Michael left the bed, and Michael always left in the middle of the night. If he stayed until dawn, he wouldn't move until Gavin was awake and ready to get up.

Sitting in bed by himself in the morning light was the first bad sign.

The second was Gavin's phone ringing on the bedside table. He reached over to the other side to pick it up. Geoff's name lit up the screen.

Geoff didn't call in the morning unless there was trouble.

Gavin put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Gavin, thank God you picked up, do you know what the fuck happened to Michael?”

“Wh--” The Brit's brow crinkled. “No, I don't. How do you know something's wrong?”

“Shit.” Geoff's voice disappeared. Gavin could hear noise in the background. “All right,” he said a second later, “so Michael didn't tell you anything?”

“No,” Gavin said slowly. Nervousness settled in the pit of his stomach. “I just woke up, Geoff. I didn't even know Michael was gone. Is it something serious?”

Geoff sighed loud against the speaker. “Mother fucker. Yes, it's something serious. Especially if he didn't tell you, Christ. He called me fifteen minutes ago, said 'I have a family emergency and I'm taking my vacation days off,' before the little shit hung up on me. I tried calling back to ask him what was up, and tell him off for hanging up, but the call went straight to voicemail.”

“Emergency? Did he go to the airport? He doesn't have a car yet.”

“I have no clue how he got there, but I assume he went to take the nearest flight to Jersey.”

Michael had an emergency? Gavin swallowed, thought about that. Michael told him everything-- surely he would tell Gavin if he had to leave. He could have at least woken him up. Maybe he did, and Gavin was too sleepy to remember. He kept the phone to his ear and got up, slipping on a pair of pajama pants and treading down the hall. The burn stung again; Gavin winced. “I don't know a thing,” he told Geoff, keeping his mind off his chest. Gavin took a quick survey of the apartment as he walked through. All of Michael's stuff appeared not to have moved. He saw a note on the kitchen counter, grabbed it.

Gavin, sorry for the short notice, family emergency. I flew to the airport. Bye.

“He left a note.” His voice started to crack, nerves rising at the sight of Michael's handwriting scribbled over the paper. Michael flew; he must have used his bird form to leave by himself. “He says he's gone. Didn't say anything else.”

Geoff heard the desperation. “If you need me to come pick you up--”

“Yes,” Gavin said immediately. “Yes, please.”

“Be there in fifteen.”

After he hung up, Gavin called Michael. It rung once, and clicked. “Michael Jones, leave a message,” his accented Jersey tone said, sounding almost like a different person because living in Texas softened Michael's Northeast twang.

“Michael, why'd you leave without telling me?” Gavin clenched the plastic tight in his hand. “Call me back.” He didn't have the energy to ask why, and interrogation over voicemail didn't seem like a good idea anyway. Gavin tossed the phone on the kitchen counter and went to get himself dressed.

Dressed, teeth brushed, and munching an apple, Gavin stared at his phone hopelessly. He tried texting several times, called again. No answers.

Geoff knocked on the door. Gavin threw his apple core away and opened it for him. Geoff pulled him into a hug and pat his hair, a surprising gesture coming from him. Gavin welcomed it, arms locking around Geoff's torso. “I'll get my stuff,” he said as he let go.

With a set of clothes, his camera, phone, and wallet, Gavin followed Geoff to the car. He clicked his phone on again and again, hoping to see Michael's name on the lock screen. Nothing showed. His breathing became shallow, and he sunk in the car seat. Geoff said nothing, driving them to his house.

Millie was at school, which was good, because by the time they arrived, his anxiousness had Gavin jittery, clenching fists and biting his lip. When she saw him, Griffon hugged him too, and sat him down in the living room. “He didn't say anything?” she asked, peering at Gavin.

“Nothing. Just a note.” Gavin checked his phone again. “He'd tell me about this, no matter what it was. If someone died, he would have kicked me awake and let me know about it.”

“Oh, honey.” Griffon rubbed his back. “I'll make you tea. Sit here and relax.” She rose and walked out with one last glance as she went through the doorway. Gavin laid down and curled on the couch, phone set on the cushion by his head.

It was Monday, but Geoff didn't go to work. He called in to tell them he was watching Gavin. He felt bad for making Geoff's life harder, Achievement Hunter now down three of their five main employees, but his worry for Michael was bigger. He kept checking the phone and sighing when nothing came up. Gavin tried playing games a couple times; having the screen occupied by them made him think he'd miss a call, and he gave up. The television didn't appeal to him. Gavin decided to lay there, watching his phone, a million questions flying through his mind.

Did this have something to do with Michael being a phoenix?

That was the greatest wonder. It hurt that Gavin couldn't even ask Geoff, or anyone, about it. He did tell Michael the day before that Geoff was suspicious. Maybe he took that as a warning and left before he was found out.

Oh, God, what if Michael thought Gavin told? What if he left for good?

He whimpered and curled in on himself at the thought.

Griffon walked in with the tea and a sandwich on a plate. She put them on the coffee table and sat at Gavin's feet, rubbing his legs. Geoff came in as well, took a spot on the arm of the couch. “Take as much time as you need,” he said. “Griffon and I are here for you.”

Gavin didn't answer. He eyed the food, and though he wasn't hungry, it would go to waste if he didn't eat it, so he he sat up. Griffon smiled a bit when he took the tea and started drinking.

They stayed with him while he ate. When he finished, Griffon took the dishes. Geoff sighed as Gavin fell back on the cushions and placed his phone next to his forehead. Geoff crossed his arms, watched a minute. “Gavin?”

“Hm?”

“Look, you don't have to tell me anything,” Geoff started, “but, uh . . . do you think this has something to do with what you won't tell me about Michael?”

As if Gavin needed reminding about that. But it was useless to lie at this point. “Yes.”

Geoff didn't ask anymore, turning to stare at the wall as though it were the most interesting thing in the room.

Gavin checked his phone several times a minute, and Geoff finally yanked it from his hands. “You're going to go fucking blind staring at it,” he said when Gavin whined and reached for it. “I'll give it back in a little while and you can try calling again. I'll let you know if you get anything, promise.”

With nothing to occupy his hands, Gavin curled them into his chest, which still hurt and only brought up his memory of their fight, and tucked his legs closer to his body. In a few minutes he fell asleep, exhausted from worry.

He was shaken awake. Gavin's eyes snapped open. Geoff bent next to the couch, looking at him. His brain caught up with what was happening, and he looked at Geoff's hands, hoping to see his phone lit up with a call or text.

“Nothing from Michael,” Geoff said, apologetic. “You slept through most of the day. Griffon wants to know if you want dinner.”

It was dinnertime? And Michael hadn't contacted him? Gavin sunk back into the cushions. “I don't want to eat,” he said, breathing deep. “Just give me my phone.”

Geoff obeyed, pulling it from his back pocket and setting it by Gavin's head. “He'll call as soon as he can,” he assured Gavin. “Michael wouldn't run off for no reason.”

Gavin didn't answer, only picked up the phone and sent a text to Michael. Please call me.

Geoff sighed and stood, hesitating by the door before he left.

From his spot, Gavin could hear the Ramseys eating. Millie's high voice rang above her parents. He thought he heard his name. No doubt Geoff would make up some reason for why Gavin was here, probably tell her he was sick. Which he thought might be true. His stomach kept roiling when he checked and saw nothing from Michael. Gavin tried to call again. It went to voicemail.

“Michael.” Gavin huffed and swallowed hard. “Why did you leave?”

* * *

Geoff told Gavin he didn't have to work the next day. The Brit insisted, because the office needed them to make videos. Rage Quit obviously wouldn't be going out, but Gavin wasn't getting in the way of their other series' getting done. He dragged himself to the kitchen to eat, barely registering the taste of his cereal, and went to work still wearing the clothes from the day before. Geoff glanced at him every few minutes, worried the man might collapse.

No one asked about Michael. Gavin expected a flurry of questions, but when he entered the building Kara simply smiled and said good morning. In the Achievement Hunter office, Jack and Ray both said hello without looking at him. He thought he caught Ray sneaking a peek, but when he looked the Puerto Rican had his eyes on his computer.

Gavin assumed he looked terrible. He slept poorly on the couch, didn't bother to shower. He sat down and opened the latest file he remembered working on last week. His phone sat next to his mouse, volume turned on full blast to ensure he didn't miss anything. He checked his email, too. The inbox had spam and a few messages from Gus. No emails from his little boy.

Work helped. Not as much as Gavin wanted, but it helped. The Hunters stayed silent, except when Geoff and Jack had to record a game guide. Even then, they were quieter and less spirited.

“Hey, Gavin, want to get lunch?” Ray asked around one o' clock.

“Nah.” He didn't move.

“You sure?” Ray touched the back of his chair with a hand. “It's nice out. We could go to a restaurant and eat outside.”

“No thanks, Ray.”

Geoff got out of his chair and tugged Ray back. Gavin couldn't see what he did, but Ray didn't bother him again, leaving the room by himself.

Okay, so he felt like an arse for ignoring everyone. Gavin hated to make anyone unhappy or worried-- it was why he tried to be so carefree at work. Sitting around for eight hours a day, even playing video games, was made much better if someone had the energy to laugh and smile and joke around. Gavin was the one who usually initiated that.

Maybe he could act more like himself after lunch. Geoff and Jack were leaving. Gavin could try and drain the last of his mopey attitude while they were gone. He worked on breathing deep, relaxing his shoulders as he moved files and cut clips. It helped ease some of the tension, despite the lump of worry and nerves that refused to disperse from his chest, settling under the skin that still hurt. Gavin would have to deal with that feeling until he heard from Michael, he guessed.

It wasn't easy to smile when his coworkers returned. Gavin managed, asking as brightly as he could, “How was lunch, guys?”

Jack and Geoff froze on the way to their chairs. “Uh,” Geoff started, blinking. “Good. We got some Mexican.”

“Nice.” Gavin attempted another smile and turned back to his monitor. Geoff and Jack stayed rooted to their spots a moment, slowly sat down. Ray came in a moment later, his eyes widening a bit when Gavin nodded and waved at him.

Thankfully, the atmosphere felt better without Gavin scowling and hunched over his desk. Jack asked Geoff a few questions about recording and Ray dared to sneak a look at Gavin's work. They kept on at a steady pace until it was time to go home.

The minute Gavin stepped over Geoff's threshold, however, his fake cheer vanished. He sighed and slumped his shoulders, leaning against the wall. It took more effort than he thought to be happy. All he wanted was to curl back up on the couch and stare at his phone. Michael still hadn't sent him a single thing, and Gavin wondered if he really had abandoned him.

“Oh, God,” Geoff said when he saw Gavin stuck by the door. “I knew you were still moping.”

“Sorry, Geoffrey.” Gavin shrugged. “I didn't want people to be upset because of me.”

“They're still gonna be upset, now it's just awkward 'cuz they know you're faking it.” Geoff rubbed Gavin's hair like he was a puppy. “At least try to forget about this and play some games with me.”

That didn't sound too bad. Gavin nodded. They went to the living room to drown themselves in the Xbox.

This turned into a routine.

Gavin did his best to be happy at work, making a few jokes and acknowledging people even though he didn't feel much like talking to them. Geoff watched him carefully and forced him to go out or take a break when he thought Gavin was too into his work. Jack and Ray kept their mouths shut, though Michael's absence and Gavin's mood made it easy to connect cause and effect. It was worse than when Michael left after his and Gavin's first fight.

After work, Gavin either sulked on the couch or played games with Geoff, depending on how much energy his boss had. Millie tried to help, drawing pictures for him or bringing him snacks, but her parents told her to leave Gavin alone because he wasn't up for playing around. This took its toll on Millie. She often stood in the doorway while Gavin was on the couch, until she got shooed away by Geoff or Griffon. After a week, she stopped trying to cheer Gavin up.

Geoff was more concerned about Michael the longer they went without word from him. When it was clear Gavin wouldn't be going back to his apartment, Geoff stole his key and drove over to pick up clothes and minor belongings. He checked the answering machine there, but told Gavin there weren't any messages.

On Thursday he called Michael's home in Jersey, because this was ridiculous and Michael's family had to know where he was if this was indeed a family emergency. His mother picked up, and sounded surprised when Geoff asked for her son. “He's not here,” she said. “He hasn't talked to me in quite some time. Why, is something wrong?”

Geoff didn't have the heart to tell her Michael ran off. He said Michael took a vacation and mentioned me might stop at his parents', that Geoff had a question about work. “I'll call if he visits,” his mother assured him. “I would think he'd pick up his phone for something like that, though.”

Geoff thought she was right.

One week turned into two, and then three, without word. It was the beginning of April and Michael seemed to have vanished from the face of the Earth. Geoff finally called his mother again, admitted he had no idea where Michael was, and that she should probably file a missing persons report.

Gavin nearly choked when he heard Geoff say that into the phone. He could hear him in the hall, and bit his lip. He knew one reason Michael might vanish from their lives, and it pained him that he couldn't tell anyone about it.

They argued about it before Michael left and now he was gone. It couldn't be that, though. Gavin told him he would stay. He assured Michael he didn't think less of him, he wasn't angry, even after Michael hurt him. It was an accident, Gavin understood that. It was healed by now, there was no physical evidence they fought at all. And it couldn't be his age; he wasn't even with them a year, no one would notice Michael's age.

Though, it was the worst thing Michael got mad about. He was worried about the phoenix thing, concerned when Gavin asked to take pictures and see him up close, wondering if Gavin would tell and whether he would freak out. But Michael was close to tears when he said he wanted to age with Gavin. Had he ever seen Michael cry? Gavin didn't think so.

Maybe Michael didn't think he should stay if he was going to be exposed. Keeping his life as a phoenix meant more to Michael than loving a fragile human.

A dramatic and self centered thought, and it still hit Gavin in the gut like a bowling ball. He let out a dry sob and curled further in on himself. Geoff must have heard because he was there seconds later. “What's the matter?”

Gavin only shook his head, buried himself under a pillow. Geoff shook him and asked again and again. The Brit refused to be roused, and Geoff gave up, resting in the armchair.

So much did the idea of Michael leaving to avoid Gavin upset him that he stopped eating. Food tasted like nothing and it was an effort to choke it down. Gavin started refusing lunch at work, and then breakfast, and finally stopped eating dinner. Griffon noticed, force fed him a couple times. Ultimately, though, Gavin got barely any nutrition besides water and resorted to hiding in his room at mealtime.

A month after Michael disappeared, Geoff and Gavin were coming home, when Griffon met them at the door and hooked a hand into Gavin's collar. He squawked and pulled against her. Griffon yanked him as though it were nothing, shoved him in a chair in the kitchen. She motioned to Geoff to get the door, and he closed it. “Time for some counseling,” Griffon said, kneeling to meet Gavin's eye level. “You aren't eating and you never go outside except for work. Geoff told me all the videos you do sound fake. Even the fans are asking about it in the comments. You're more shaken up than I've ever seen and I'm worried about you.” She inhaled after the long rant, and said, softer, “Is there anything, anything at all, that would have led to Michael leaving? Any information you can give us?”

This was the last thing Gavin wanted to talk about. “Don't you think I would have told you if there was?”

“Yeah, except Michael apparently has some big secret--” Geoff started, but was interrupted by the sound of an obnoxious nasal tone.

It was Gavin's phone, the ringtone set to his joke imitation of Ricky Gervais. Geoff went silent to let Gavin dig it out of his pocket. He looked at the screen, his eyes went wide. He nearly dropped it in his scramble to hit the 'accept' button and put the phone to his ear. “Michael!?” he gasped, heart pounding so loud he thought he wouldn't hear the answer.

Geoff and Griffon stared with equal shock.

“Hi, Gavin.” Michael sounded tired and stressed, his voice scratchy. “How are you?”

“Why the fuck did you leave without telling me anything, you fucking prick!?” Gavin shot from his chair and stomped to the other side of the kitchen. He thought he might break his phone in his hand. “Where have you been? What's going on?”

Michael sighed into the speaker. “I can't say, Gavin.”

“Fuck you, you can't tell me!” All the worry and depression Gavin held in him the last month channeled to anger and spewed forth. “If this is about phoenix shit, I'm gonna blow my top, I swear to fucking God!” Screw the fact that Geoff and Griffon were there and giving each other confused, concerned looks.

“Will you fucking listen to me!?” Michael spat back, matching fire with fire. “I'm sorry it was sudden, okay? I had to leave, I couldn't . . . I couldn't stand it, Gav.”

“Stand what?” Gavin held back another shout. He fumed heavy breaths through his nose.

Michael paused. “Being with you. After telling you the truth about me, that I can't age and be with you the same way other people could.”

Oh, bloody hell, it was what Gavin thought. His chest tightened. “So you left?”

“It's for the best, Gavin.”  
“Fuck you!” he yelled, cutting Michael off. “What's best for me is you, so get your ass back down here!”

“I'm doing something important!”

“What!?”

“I-- I can't tell you yet,” Michael said again. “I called to make sure you were okay.”

“I called a hundred times!” Gavin slammed a fist on the counter to release some tension. “You never answered, not once! I thought you might be dead!”

“Look, Gavin--”

“Don't 'Gavin' me! What's your fucking excuse, huh?” His voice was catching in his throat now. Gavin felt his eyes watering. “You tell me everything about yourself, about being a phoenix and never aging and that you've never lived in one place because you couldn't risk anyone finding out-- you told me willingly, and let me think you were trusting me, and then-- then you left, like a bloody asshole. What am I supposed to think?”

Michael didn't answer for a long time. Geoff and Griffon were staring, eyes wide. Gavin turned so he didn't have to look at them. After long minutes that felt stretched into hours, Michael said, “It's not right, Gavin. I'm not human. You can't be with me like this.”

He kept saying that. Gavin grit his teeth at the phrase. “How long have you thought that?” Because he had to know, the entire thing was too sudden and Michael loved him too much, damn it, or at least Gavin thought he did.

“Since our first kiss.”

Gavin froze. “What?”

Michael hesitated, and said, “I didn't think we were right to date, Gavin. A phoenix isn't meant to be with a human. I let my feelings for you get in the way of my judgment.”

There it was. The real truth, the lie behind the lie. Through the laughs and touches and sex and moving in and working together, Michael never thought they were right. He let Gavin fall into the trap of love, and hell, maybe even fell into it himself, all while knowing he wasn't comfortable with it. A relationship doomed from the start.

“Fine.” Gavin almost choked on the words, because the tears finally spilled over and stained his cheeks. “If that's what you think, fine. Goodbye.”

He thought Michael said something, but Gavin didn't care. He drew the phone away, ended the call. His tears fell faster, dripping down his neck and spotting his shirt. He looked at the phone, at his hands, let out a strangled cry of frustration. Gavin had to direct his feelings at something and he chose the device in his hand, throwing it across the room. Geoff and Griffon both jumped when it hit the cabinet, leaving a dent in the wood.

It wasn't enough for Gavin. He stomped over and kicked the phone. The screen shattered and it skid across the floor. He kept crying and his thoughts were too jumbled to make sense. All Gavin could focus on was the ache in his heart and the rage in his veins. He cried out again and smashed the fridge door with a fist. Pain flared in his fingers. Good, pain could draw his mind out of this mess.

“Gavin!” Geoff separated from Griffon. “Stop!”

“Why the fuck should I!?” Gavin punched the fridge again. The pain felt good. Snot dripped from his nose and blood flowed from his knuckles.

“Cut it out!” Geoff roared. He grabbed Gavin by the wrists and clamped tight. Gavin fought him, kicking and screaming. He hit the edge of the counter, knocked over appliances with flailing elbows. Griffon was yelling with Geoff now, keeping distance but spotting Geoff to help in any way she could. When she saw an opening, Griffon slipped behind Gavin and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to hold him still.

“Let me go!” Gavin struggled, near immobilized.

“Not until you calm the fuck down.” Geoff twisted his arms uncomfortably to limit Gavin's range. The Brit huffed and yelled curse words, but neither Ramsey relinquished. It soon became clear that Gavin couldn't overpower them both, and he stilled. Griffon relaxed her hold on his shoulders, moving her hands to his waist to hug him gently. Geoff kept his hands on Gavin's wrists a moment, releasing only when Griffon nodded. Together they maneuvered him back to the chair and sat him down. Gavin breathed hard.

“All right, let's start with the basics.” Geoff stood by Gavin's head while Griffon went to get paper towels and wrap them around Gavin's bloody knuckles. It stung. Gavin didn't care. “What did Michael say that pissed you off?” Geoff continued, eyes flicking to the broken phone on the floor.

Gavin shook his head. There was no energy left to speak. “Come on, dumbass,” Geoff urged. Griffon glared, because name calling was not going to help the situation. Geoff sighed and said, “Please, Gavin, we want to help.”

A hard swallow, a few more deep breaths. “He doesn't want to be with me,” Gavin managed, voice hitched in his throat. It wasn't until Griffon took a spare paper towel from her hand and dabbed his face that Gavin realized he was still crying.

“Why?” Geoff asked.

Instinct had Gavin thinking of a lie, something to cover Michael's secret, and he remembered what he said aloud. He looked Geoff in the eyes for the first time. Well, it wasn't like he had anything to lose at this point. “Michael doesn't want to be with me, because he's not human.”

Griffon frowned as she continued tending Gavin's wounds, but Geoff showed no sign of shock or surprise. “Explain,” he said simply.

Instead, Gavin pushed Griffon away lightly and left the room. Neither of them stopped him. He went to his room, retrieved his camera, hesitating at the door. Michael's voice rang in his head, asking him if he would promise not to show anyone the pictures. Gavin shook it away and returned to the kitchen, tossing the camera at Geoff. “Take a look at the oldest pictures on the card.”

Geoff turned it on and pressed a few buttons, flicking through the menu. Griffon stood to look over his shoulder. Gavin remained by the door, arms crossed. He felt like punching something again.

“Holy shit,” Geoff said when he saw what Gavin wanted. “Is this that fucking wild bird? It doesn't look like a peacock.”

“What?” Griffon peeked closer. “I hadn't heard whether they caught it or not. These are so close, how did you take these?”

“Take a guess,” Gavin said. Geoff glared at him, and he dropped the cheekiness. “That's not a regular bird. It's a phoenix.”

“No fucking way,” Geoff said, but he didn't sound skeptical. Gavin wondered if he was thinking of what he overheard the night Michael almost drowned. “Phoenixes don't exist,” he continued, uncertain of himself.

“You asked what Michael's secret was, Geoffrey.” Gavin clenched his fists. “That's it. He's not human, he's a fucking phoenix. That's what you heard us talking about at your house. He looks like a human whenever he pleases, and he left, because a relationship between species isn't exactly a solid moral foundation.”

The two looked at Gavin, stared at the camera. Geoff flicked through the several pictures Gavin had of Michael, forehead creasing with confusion the longer he looked. Griffon bit her lip and glanced at Gavin as though he needed a long rest to stop talking nonsense.

“Michael never thought we should be together,” Gavin said, quiet. “It was all a lie.”

“Okay, stop right there.” Geoff gave the camera to his wife and stepped closer. “Forget the mythical bullshit for a minute. You and Michael were not a lie. If I didn't love my wife so much, I'd say I've never seen two people who cared more about each other.”

The words hit him hard. Gavin felt tears coming again, the most he'd cried since he was a child. “Thanks, but Michael said it himself. Ever since he knew I had feelings for him, he thought us dating was a bad idea.”

“And you think that means he didn't love you?”

Gavin swallowed again. “Didn't say that.”

“So why the fuck did he leave?” Geoff narrowed his eyes.

“Is there something else?” Griffon piped in, camera held tight in her hands. “Some other problem you guys were having?”

Gavin wanted nothing more than to run and hide. This impromptu counseling only made his chest feel tighter and the tears come easier. They should be freaking out that Michael was a bloody firebird, that they had someone inhuman as one of their friends, not trying to weed out their relationship issues.

But Gavin answered anyway. “We had a bit of an argument the night before he left.”

“About what?” Geoff asked.

“Age.” The look on Michael's face came to mind. Gavin squashed the image.

Geoff and Griffon waited for him to explain further. Gavin ran a hand through his scraggly hair. When was the last time he showered? He couldn't remember. “Phoenixes live for centuries,” he said, going over the speech Michael gave him. “Michael stays in an adult form until it's time for him to die and make a new phoenix. He'd be twenty five for the entirety of our lives.”

A long pause, and a sigh from Geoff.

“Oh, God, this sounds like fantasy novel drama.” Geoff wiped a hand over his eyes. “Let me guess, he doesn't want you to watch him stay young while you age through the years, right?”

“It's not just that!” Gavin shouted, and stopped to reel himself in. Why was he so defensive over someone who abandoned him? “Michael never stays in one place, people would wonder about him not getting older. He couldn't have stayed with me without people knowing about him.”

“Hm.” Geoff considered this, eyes trained on Gavin. “Well, if this is all true, Michael being an immortal bird or whatever . . . do you still think you guys should be together?”

That caught Gavin off guard. He frowned, brow knit together. Of course they should, they loved each other. At least, he thought they did, and he told Michael he wanted to be with him no matter what. He didn't care what they looked like or how much time they had together.

Was it right, though?

Gavin looked at the floor. In just the few months he'd been here, Michael was almost discovered. Geoff heard them. A police officer caught them. In his rage, Michael even hurt Gavin, panicking at his own mistake. Michael would have to keep changing or risk losing his powers, ensuring someone somewhere saw him, that his powers were always a threat.

Gavin tied him down. “I love him,” he said, slowly. “I wished more than anything to be with Michael. But . . . it's a risk for him to stay with me.”

Geoff looked at Griffon. She shrugged, helpless.

“I just wish he hadn't used that stupid bloody excuse,” Gavin said, anger returning. “Fucking telling me he can't make me happy the way another human could. Tell me he hates me, or he's risking himself by staying here, be fucking selfish and I'd understand. But he can't tell me I'd be better off without him, because it's not true! I love him!” He punched the wall behind him. The vibration rang through and shook the kitchen.

Geoff moved quick to take Gavin's wrists again. He didn't resist, clenching fingers and sucking in air. God, break ups were terrible, he knew now why he avoided them all his life. He never told a girl in person he didn't want to see her anymore. If this was the pain he caused them, he owed a lot of people an apology.

“All right, Gavin, buddy,” Geoff said in a calming tone. “You're mad at Michael. I get that. If this is how he's going to handle it, though, you need to buck up and be the bigger man.”

“How?” Gavin glared at him.

“Try to forget about him, for starters.”

The Brit switched from anger to terror instantly. “What?”

“Yeah, you heard me.” Geoff let go, put his hands on Gavin's shoulders. “I'm as good as your dad as long as you live here, and if Michael is going to run away like a coward, he's not good enough for you.”

Griffon opened her mouth to say something. Geoff turned to her and put a finger to his lips. Disgruntled, she shut her mouth and put a hand to her hip. Geoff turned back to Gavin. “Let me and Griffon take care of you until you get better.”

Gavin's mind flailed. He wanted to hate Michael, let all his emotions out and cry because the man didn't want their love to happen from the start. But forgetting him . . . it settled badly in Gavin's stomach. “I wouldn't know how,” he whispered.

“Relax,” Geoff assured him with a squeeze. He pat him a couple times and drew back. “Eat something and get some sleep. Tomorrow we're putting this issue to rest so you can live a normal life again.”

Griffon frowned at Geoff and punched him in the arm. Geoff winced, rubbed the sore spot, but kept his gaze on Gavin. “Well?”

Gavin looked between them both. “I guess I'll go to bed.”

“Not without food, dumbass.” Geoff plucked a couple oranges from a fruit bowl and tossed them at Gavin, who barely managed to catch them, stumbling. “If I find out you didn't eat these, I'll force feed you breakfast.”

“Um, all right.” Gavin held the oranges to his chest. “Night, then.”

Geoff pat him on the head. “Goodnight, Gav.”

Gavin settled on the middle of his bed in his room, not bothering with the light. He sat in the dark and tossed the oranges on the floor. So what if Geoff yelled at him in the morning. He still didn't feel like eating.

Guilt and heartache fought for dominance in his chest as he lay down and closed his eyes. He told them Michael's secret, the one thing he promised not to do. But Michael admitted he never wanted their relationship. So what did Gavin owe him?

Your promise as a friend, if nothing else, his mind answered. That was part of what made dating Michael so great; they were best friends no matter what happened between them. A friend wouldn't betray something so important.

Maybe Geoff was right. Gavin flipped to his side and hugged a pillow. The sooner he forgot Michael altogether, the sooner his heart would feel normal, and he could be himself again. Geoff and Griffon wouldn't tell anyone about Michael's identity, he was sure, so there needn't be guilt over that. If anything, he should feel better. The Ramseys knew better why Gavin felt awful all this time. He could finally have someone to confide in if he needed it.

The self assurances did little to comfort him. Gavin struggled to relax enough for sleep and, when that failed after a few hours, he turned his lamp on and ate the damn oranges. His stomach roiled at the first taste of food in quite some time, and the sickness made it harder to rest. Around three AM, Gavin settled, the entire night's events still tugging at the edges of his mind.

* * *

The alarm wasn't welcome. Gavin groaned and tossed it off his bedside table. It thumped on the carpet, kept beeping, forcing him awake so he could struggle with bleary eyes until he found the snooze button. Gavin lay back and breathed deep. The last thing he wanted was to go to work.

Every day life had little mercy for Gavin's feelings. His alarm went off again five minutes later. The Brit slammed the button and yanked the cord free to stop it entirely. He sat up, stretched, listened for the shower. He could hear it running, and Griffon's singing through the walls, which meant she came back from dropping Millie at school. He could wait until she finished, and grabbed his laptop to kill the time.

Gavin did his normal morning routine for the computer, updating Facebook and Twitter to assure the world he hadn't died overnight. He opened his email next to delete any spam and see if Gus yelled at him for the millionth time in the last few weeks. He had little patience for Gavin's sulking, even after Geoff yelled at him and asked Burnie for help keeping Gus off Gavin's back.

What he saw was ten new messages, subject lines bolded, capitalized, and filled with swearing. Gavin almost whimpered out loud because he knew exactly who they were from, a glance at the sending address confirming it.

Michael never sent him emails unless Gavin wouldn't pick up his phone. The ritual started after Michael unintentionally surprised Gavin to help him move. Anytime Gavin wouldn't answer a text, Michael sent him an email to ensure he got the message. The emails were blank, containing what he wanted to say in the subject line. Gavin would reply to them on his phone as a makeshift text service. Even after his texts worked again, Michael kept sending him emails if he wouldn't answer, mostly to yell at him to check his phone more often. The emails used to make Gavin smile.

He looked at the sent times on each message. The first one was from about an hour after Michael called, and the rest came every half hour or so after.

As much as he didn't want to, chest tight and breathing shallow, Gavin opened the first email, and flinched. It was a simple plea.

Gavin, please pick up your phone.

Good luck with that. As far as Gavin knew, it still sat broken on the kitchen floor. That or Geoff tossed it in the garbage. He deleted it and opened the next email, going through them in order. He stared at each one for a minute or so before he moved on.

I'm sorry. Please pick up.

Gavin, answer the damn phone, PLEASE.

Michael started getting angry around there.

Geoff and Griffon aren't answering the home phone.

Gavin, I swear to God, ANSWER.

ANSWER YOUR PHONE.

I'M TRYING TO APOLOGIZE, DUMBASS.

GAVIN. ANSWER ME.

YOU FUCKING FUCK, I'M SORRY. COME ON.

Gavin could imagine Michael angrily typing each message rapid fire, fingers clenched around his smartphone, teeth bared. He resisted the urge to laugh, felt a need to cry quickly replacing it.

The last message wasn't in caps, though. Gavin clicked on it and let out a small gasp.

Gavin, I love you, I'm sorry, please answer me.

And under the subject line, Michael wrote an actual message, something he never bothered to do. I know what I said sounded bad. You can be pissed, I would be too. And I really wish I could tell you what I'm doing, but I can't. Please, call me. I want to hear your voice.

The tears were coming again. Gavin slammed his laptop shut and pushed it to the edge of the bed. Every fiber of his being told him to go to the house phone and dial Michael's number as fast as his fingers would let him.

But he couldn't forget what Michael said.

Gavin forced himself from bed, pulled open his closet. He grabbed the first shirt and pants he saw and turned to leave. His eyes lingered on the computer. Gavin forced himself away, down the hall to the bathroom. He could smell waffles in the kitchen, and the singing had stopped, so he slipped in to take a fast shower.

It really had been a long time. Gavin's habit as of late was shutting off the alarm and sulking in his room until Geoff poked his head in to warn they were going to be late. Staying externally happy and chipper at the office drained him. When he came home, Gavin wanted nothing more than sleep. Showers barely registered on his radar anymore. The hot water felt good, working against tired muscles and skin that collected at least a week's worth of filth. He vaguely remembered Geoff saying something about it, but Gavin couldn't be sure when.

The shower was longer than he planned, and Gavin stepped out feeling fresh, somewhat rejuvenated. He dried vigorously, slipped into his clothes, not bothering to wipe the steam from the mirror and look at himself. Geoff would tell him if there was anything seriously wrong with his appearance, the way he did every morning.

To his surprise, Geoff wasn't there. Griffon made waffles with their automatic pan, some of them burnt around the edges. “Morning, Gav.” She offered him a plate topped with three of the most decent looking waffles. “Breakfast?”

His appetite failed him still, but Gavin took the food anyway. He doused it in whipped cream and syrup, as if drowning the food might drown out his feelings.

“Geoff will be back soon,” Griffon said, answering the unasked. “He went to the police station.”

“What?” Gavin frowned, fork paused on its way to slice through a waffle. “Why?”

Griffon gave him a somber look. “They've still got Michael's missing persons file from when the Jersey department sent a copy down here. Geoff figured they should know if he called you. He's got your phone, too. I don't think it's broken, but the screen cracked.”

Gavin ignored the flare of hope and pain in his stomach. “What's he need that for?”

“He thought the police might want to look at the call record.” She took the pan off the stove and nabbed her own plate, taking the most burnt pieces for herself and leaving the rest for her husband to eat upon return.

“It's not bloody CSI,” Gavin mumbled.

Griffon pat him on the arm. “It couldn't hurt. Come on, let's watch some TV.”

They sat side by side on the couch, drawing the coffee table close to put their plates on. Gavin ate slow. After a look from Griffon, he sped his pace to mimic an actual desire to eat. Griffon finished before he did, and cuddled with him when all their food was gone.

Mercifully, she refrained from bringing up last night any further. Gavin wondered if the Ramseys thought he'd gone insane, because even if his photos of the phoenix were impressive, it proved little about Michael unless they saw him change for themselves. Gavin considered telling her about the emails, decided against it. She would worry.

It was nearing nine, jeopardizing Gavin's schedule. He instinctively reached in his back pocket to call a cab, as he did when Geoff couldn't give him a ride. The feel of his empty pocket made him sigh and groan reluctantly to stand and get the house phone from the kitchen. Griffon picked up their plates to dump in the sink.

Just as he moved to take the phone from the receiver, it rang. Gavin paused, and picked it up so he could end the call with whoever it was and free the line.

“Geoff?”

Fuck.

Michael again, sounding harried and frustrated. Gavin nearly bit his tongue. He whipped around to look at Griffon, eyes wide and pleading. She read his expression and snatched the phone, pressing it to her ear with a restrained growl. “It's Griffon, who is this?”

Gavin leaned on the counter, stared at the floor. He should have left to wait for Geoff or turn the TV off. His body refused to move.

“Well, he doesn't exactly want to talk to you,” Griffon said. A hand moved to her hip and her legs widened in a strong stance. “Not after what you told him last night, no.”

Gavin could hear the yelling on the other line.

“Shut up!” Griffon snapped. “Pardon my fucking French, Michael, but you can't vanish without word and then suddenly call just to tell Gavin you don't want to date him. That's about the most despicable way to break up with someone I've ever seen.”

No more yelling from Michael. Gavin wished he could hear the other end of the conversation.

“If it's that important, get your ass back to Austin and talk to him face to face.” Griffon pressed the 'end call' button and slammed the phone in its cradle. “Where does he get off,” she mumbled, stalking back and forth to relieve the anger. Mid pace, she caught sight of Gavin, and switched from Mama Bear to comfort mode. “Oh, honey, I'm sorry,” she cooed, wrapping him in a tender hug. “I didn't mean to speak for you--”

“It's fine,” Gavin assured her. “I don't want to hear what he has to say.”

She cupped his face, searched his eyes a moment.

They both jumped at the sound of the front door. Geoff appeared, Gavin's phone clutched in one hand, keys in the other. “You ready, Gav? We gotta get to work.” He turned to Griffon. “Did he eat?”

“Yes,” she said, lips tight. Geoff stiffened. “I have work to do,” Griffon added without explanation, stepping close and giving Geoff what Gavin could only describe as an angry lip press to the cheek, barely an actual kiss, before she ducked around him and left the room.

“What was that?” Geoff asked, voice fearful. Nothing worried him more than Griffon's mood.

“Long story.” Gavin did the same move as her, slipping past to the door. “Let's go to work.”

Geoff stared at him, bewildered, and cautiously went through the hall and out the front door to the car. Gavin refused to explain the situation either, so they drove in silence and heavy tension.

Rooster Teeth was Gavin's safe haven. A place where he could pretend things were all right and do his best to interact with his coworkers or, if he had no energy for that, drown himself in editing until his eyes crossed.

But the computer proved too tempting for actions Gavin should stay well away from. He only managed an hour's work before his mind started to drift. He'd opened his browser to Google a slight issue, foregoing assistance from the other Achievement Hunters, and he clicked the email icon without thinking. Habitually checking it was a pattern for Gavin like it was for a lot of people who spent a good amount of time on the Internet; he regretted the action immediately when the page loaded to show he had five new messages.

And he was sure he had a hidden masochistic side, because he clicked on his inbox anyway.

Only three were from Michael, the other two spam. The subject lines were empty, all three emails with a time stamp indicating they'd been sent while Gavin and Geoff were still driving to the office. He opened the first one.

I still want to apologize.

Simple, but powerful. Gavin closed the browser without looking at the other two. He stood, said, “I need some air,” before leaving. The crash of the office door rang through the building, raising several heads as Gavin walked out the front and stopped to bang his head on the outside wall, muttering “ Stupid, bollocksing, fuck,” to himself in beat to his forehead hitting the side of the building.

He refrained from checking his email the rest of the day. The shift of attitude was like flicking a switch, everyone else somber as Gavin returned and sat down. Ray gently asked him if something was the matter. Gavin didn't answer.

Gus poked his head in after lunch to ask Gavin if he got the message about the short Burnie wanted to discuss. Gavin answered with a quiet, “No.”

“Did you actually check?” Gus asked in his typical sarcastic tone.

“No.”

Geoff picked up on Gavin's mood, stood quickly. “We got work to do, Gus. Tell Burnie he can talk to Gavin in person if he needs to.”

Gus frowned and glanced at Gavin. Geoff shook his head; Gavin needed to be left alone.

As everyone was shutting down at the end of the day, Geoff asked, “All right, what's up? Did something happen?” He had no regard for Ray or Jack's presence, far beyond waiting for them to leave and give Gavin privacy. Gavin flicked his eyes between them. Both men avoided his eyes, but kept a curious gaze on him.

“I'll tell you later,” Gavin said, turning off his monitor. “I want to go home.”

Ray grabbed Gavin's hand as he started to leave. “I miss him, too,” he said, and Gavin didn't have to ask who he meant. Michael was one of Ray's best friends; Gavin wasn't the only one who moped when it became clear Michael was gone for more than an unexpected leave of absence.

“Yeah.” Gavin tried to smile, acknowledge the kind words. It came out more like a pained grimace.

“So?” Geoff asked, when he slammed the car door shut and started the engine.

Gavin hesitated. Griffon got utterly infuriated that morning. Telling Geoff might not be the best idea. Like with Michael's secret, though, it would surely be a matter of time before he knew. “Michael's still trying to talk to me.”

Geoff's eyes went a little wide, his brow furrowed with annoyance. “I thought he said he didn't want to be with you.”

“He did.” Gavin spat the words from his mouth like a bitter taste. “I've been getting emails from him since I stopped answering my phone. He says he wants to apologize.”

“For what?”

Gavin twisted his fingers together. “Saying what he did, I guess. He knows it upset me.”

Geoff's grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Is that what had Griffon in a knot?”

“Michael called the house.” Gavin fought the tears that didn't want to stop coming. He wasn't the type who cried, and in the last two days he must have done it more than he had his whole life. “Griffon chewed him out. And I kept getting emails at work. Michael's really determined.”

The way Gavin acted in the office made more sense now. Geoff let out a slow breath through his nose. “If he wants to apologize so bad, he can do it in person. The little prick's a coward for hiding behind phones and emails.”

Gavin laughed a bit. “That's what Griffon said, too.”

“Good, then.” Geoff flashed him a smile. “It's easier if my wife and I are on the same page.”

The women of the house waited for them in the kitchen, flour and sugar dousing the countertops. “What happened!?” Geoff asked as they stepped in, catching his giggling daughter in a bear hug.

“I tried to cook.” Griffon put a hand on her hip and admired Geoff and Millie. “She insisted on cupcakes. I thought an instant mix wouldn't do much harm.”

“And she was wrong!” Millie kicked her feet to be let down, grabbing a box from the kitchen table. “Mommy didn't mix the ingredients right.”

Geoff took the box with a smirk. “What'd you do?”

Griffon rolled her eyes. “I just put them in the wrong order, that's all. The flour and sugar got a bit messy.”

Gavin watched the escapade with a quiet detachment. He wondered idly, as he did often when he lived with the Ramseys, how it might be to have a family of his own. Gavin was in no rush to get married and have babies, hoping that part of his life wouldn't come for at least another decade, but it was nice to think about, especially if he had a home half as wonderful as Geoff's.

Griffon finally registered him standing in the doorway. “How was work?”

“Not great,” he admitted. “Um . . .”

“Michael keeps emailing him,” Geoff said for him. “Whatever he wants, he won't leave Gavin alone about it.”

Griffon soured, lips pursed. “Ignore him,” she told Gavin.

“Michael?” Millie leaned on her mother's hip. “Is he coming back?”

Geoff and Griffon exchanged pained looks. Millie attached to Michael easily after he and Gavin started dating. She marveled at his warm skin and shrieked with delight when he picked her up, lifting her as high as Geoff would allow and spinning her in the air. Michael treated her like his own little sister. She threw a loud tantrum when she found out he went missing.

“Not that we know, sweetie.” Griffon put a hand in her hair to pet her. “Gavin's pretty mad at him for leaving. We don't know what's going to happen with him right now.”

Millie stuck out her lip in a pout, but she'd gotten used to Michael being gone at this point. Her mind quickly flipped to their attempt at cupcakes when the oven dinged, turning and bending to look inside and check their condition. Griffon breathed a sigh of relief and indulged her, saying, “They should be done.”

Gavin left them to their work. He dumped himself on the couch, tucked into the pillows for a long nap. His mind ached and he felt a headache coming that he could hopefully sleep off. Gavin closed his eyes, listened to the sounds of Millie asking about their pastries and Griffon providing instructions for the frosting. Geoff was correcting her every other sentence, until, exasperated, she told him to do it himself.

It was the sound of a happy family, and it soothed Gavin enough to forget about his own emotions.

* * *

He woke in the middle of the night, still on the couch, with a blanket tucked around him and his shoes removed and set on the floor. Gavin waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before sitting up. A heavy yawn escaped his mouth, and he rubbed his eyes free of the crust they accumulated in the night. However, he didn't feel like going to his room to sleep, so he got up and went to the kitchen.

Food continued to be unappealing. Gavin got a glass of water and downed it. His clothes felt wrinkled and wrong on his skin after sleeping in them, and he tugged at the collar of his shirt a couple times, stood in the kitchen for no reason other than avoiding his bed.

Sleep remained at bay. Gavin didn't know how long he waited before he sighed and decided to go for a walk. Clearing his head couldn't do any harm. He went to the front door, opened it, gauging the temperature, and left without a jacket. He made sure to slip a house key from the coat rack into his pocket and lock the door behind him. A light wind ruffled his hair and filled his lungs, energizing him. Gavin hurried out of the driveway and down the sidewalk with his hands in his jeans, fingering the keys every few seconds.

Streetlights illuminated enough of the town for Gavin to glance at buildings as he passed them, first observing other houses, and then the stores and restaurants they went to on boring Saturdays for a quick meal or supply search for Griffon. No other people were on the street, except a single homeless man sleeping in an alley behind a grocery store. Gavin walked fast past him before resuming his leisurely pace. Every so often a car came by, whizzing past in its mission to get wherever its passengers needed to be at this time of night.

Gavin was a poor judge of time, but he guessed a half hour passed when he stopped and turned back. A cab passed him, bearing the airport logo. It wasn't uncommon for people to get into the city on late flights and order a car to take them home or to their hotel, and it wouldn't have blipped on Gavin's radar, except the cab shrieked to a stop on the other side of the road. As he looked over his shoulder to see what was up, the person inside the car got out and stared at him.

Time seemed to stop in that one moment. Gavin's eyes went wide, his heart doubled in speed, because though it was dark, and the cab had to be a good thirty feet away, he was sure he knew the man looking at him. The man who may or may not be Michael himself ducked back in the cab before standing again, as the cab drove away. He had a suitcase in hand and a bag on his back, and he looked at Gavin again. No doubt, his boyfriend, missing for a month with almost no word until the day before, was on the other side of the street, and Gavin wanted to run both to and away from him.

“Gavin?” he called, with the twang of Jersey that Gavin loved.

He choose to run away. Gavin turned and sped down the sidewalk, yanking the keys from his pocket so he could have them ready to dive into Geoff's house. He heard Michael call again, did his best not to think of the last thing he heard Michael tell him before his disappearance.

But Michael was always better than Gavin at physical challenges. Even weighed down with luggage, he gave chase. Gavin could hear his footsteps behind him, briefly considered shouting for help. Gavin was an adult, though, and he was already acting like a child, avoiding confrontation. He didn't need to make it worse by asking others to get involved in his mess.

A hand clamped on his wrist and yanked him to a stop. “Gavin!” Michael said, equal parts frustrated and desperate. Gavin refused to look at him, back facing Michael, who dropped his luggage on the sidewalk to put his other hand on Gavin's fingers, trying to thread them together. Gavin clenched his hand and pulled. Michael let go. “Gavin,” he said again. “Why are you running away?”

They both knew the answer to that. Gavin snorted. “Why would you care?”

He yelped when he got a swift jab in the back. Gavin did turn then, angry and hurt and ready to cry for the millionth time in forty eight hours. He opened his mouth to yell, call Michael on his bullshit or tell him to go away. The expression on his face stopped him.

Michael had both hands at his side, shoulders slumped. The redhead had let his hair grow out, the curls falling in his eyes and barely covering the worry and pain. Gavin saw him like that before. He shut his mouth, looked at the ground.

“I'm a piece of shit, huh?” Michael tried to laugh. It sounded hollow.

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed, though he felt the need to disagree because after all this time he loved Michael and damn if it hurt to hear him put himself down.

Michael brushed a lock from his face. “I'm really sorry, Gavin. I . . . I never meant to be gone that long. It was a rush decision.”

“A decision you failed to inform me about,” Gavin spat. “Family emergency, my ass. Your parents had no idea where you were.”

Michael looked up, brow furrowed. “You called my parents?”

“Geoff did. They filed a bloody missing persons report because we didn't hear from you and no one knew where you went. I think I heard your mom cry over the phone.” He shouldn't have said the last part, and the sharp intake of air from Michael did not satisfy him the way he thought it might.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I-- I'm sorry, Gavin.”

“Too little, too late.” Gavin started to turn. All he wanted was to go back to bed.

Michael caught him again and didn't release him when Gavin tried to break free. “Please,” he begged, “let me explain. I can tell you everything--”

“You refused to explain when you had the chance!” Gavin bared his teeth, as though he would bite Michael if he got closer. “I worried for weeks! You could have told me over the phone! And I don't see why you're bothering now, after you told me you never wanted us to date!”

Michael stopped then, froze on the spot, as Gavin huffed. “That wasn't--” he sputtered, grasping for the words. “I didn't mean-- Gavin, I love you. I never said I didn't want us to date.”

“Don't lie.” Gavin got his wrist free finally, stepped back. “I heard you.”

“I said I didn't think we should,” Michael said, gaining confidence. “I wanted you like hell, Gavin, I still do. That's why I let us date even though I thought it was a bad idea. For once in my life, I let my emotions take the lead.”

Gavin felt the carpet come out from under his feet, staring at the ground. “That's-- you--” he searched for something, anything, to keep his argument on the ground. “Well, you should have told me!” he settled on, trying to dredge up his earlier anger. “You didn't tell me what you thought about us. I think I had a damn right to know.”

Michael sighed. “You're right about that. I was an asshole. But, please, can I have a chance to explain myself?” He waited for an answer, and continued, “I promise there's a reason for all of this, Gav. Maybe not a good reason, but a reason.”

Gavin should have walked away, turned and gone home without a second thought. It would be the logical thing to do.

He was never one for logic, though.

“You've got fifteen minutes,” Gavin told him, “from the second the explanation starts.”

Michael smiled, small and contrite, but a smile, and Gavin fought to impulse to return it. “Let's go to Geoff's,” Gavin said, already wondering if he did the right thing. Michael said nothing, simply picked up his bags and followed as Gavin turned down the street.

The silence was the worst. Gavin wanted to yell some more, or ask what the hell Michael thought he would get from a failed relationship, or maybe just ask him where he'd been. The Brit clamped his mouth. Michael didn't try to start conversation. They came to Geoff's front door and entered quiet as mice, Gavin slipping the keys on the coat rack, Michael placing his bags in the entryway. They both removed their shoes and went to the living room. Gavin flicked on a lamp, settled in the armchair. Michael frowned, took the couch. It looked empty with just him in it.

“Fifteen minutes.” Gavin pointed at the clock on the wall. “Go.”

Michael took a deep breath. “All right. Firstly,” he said, “I never intended to be gone for a whole month. Shut up,” he added when Gavin pulled a face. “I thought I'd be a few days, maybe a week. Stuff happened.”

“Stuff?” Gavin raised an eyebrow.

Michael bit his lip. A quick glance at the clock reminded him of the time limit, and he continued. “I was upset after we fought about the age issue. After I-- I hurt you.” He went quieter when he said this, guilt lacing the words. Gavin felt the skin on his chest tingle, as though the burn were still there. Another reason he should have kicked Michael to the curb; but he knew as well as Michael it was an accident.

“I stayed up for a couple hours that night thinking about it, what it all meant,” Michael said. “It's not something I never thought about. I considered staying in a lot of places I lived in as a human. But I can't stay for more than ten years or so before people get suspicious. And the thought of leaving you after that, after we'd had so much more time together to build something . . . I hated it.” Michael's head hung low.

“I started thinking about something serious-- something I considered but never had the courage to go through with. And I needed to go away to think about it. I planned to leave for a little while and come right back, so I left a note and hitched it to the airport.” He looked up, meeting Gavin's eyes. “I didn't want to tell you where, because it's a place no one knows about. It's dangerous if people know.”

Another phoenix issue, Gavin guessed. He didn't pry.

“I'll tell you now, though,” Michael said, with a hard swallow. “It doesn't matter anymore, I guess. I went to Greece, where I was first born.”

That caught Gavin by surprise. “Greece?”

“Yeah.” Michael smiled a little. “All the legends about the phoenix happened for a reason, although I'm not the one who started them. Greece is a popular spot for a phoenix to live in because the people there respect legends and don't often try to kill us when they see us. And the mountains there are good for hiding. I was born on the peak of one mountain when the last phoenix died, in a nest made of hard bark covered in herbs like cinnamon and myrrh.”

Gavin had a rough time thinking of Michael born as a bird. His head didn't want to understand the concept, and he let it remain an abstract idea. His attention was caught in the story now. Gavin leaned forward without thinking.

“And ever since I was a young adult,” Michael said, “I liked to go to back to my nest. A phoenix is supposed to bring the nest to someplace sacred-- in Greece, it's usually an altar of a sun god-- as a type of burial for their predecessor. I put it off because I liked to just sit in it and think. It was my haven, a home away from home.”

A familiar feeling pulled at Gavin's heartstrings. He often thought that way about England when he went back. He loved Austin, but nothing felt quite the same as returning to the place he was born.

“So that's where I went.” Michael shrugged. “I figured I could go and think for a while about what I wanted, what we could do. What I didn't expect, was that my nest was missing.” He glared at the cushions as he remembered. “Development happened all around the mountain with hiking trails and tourist attractions. The nest was gone, and I couldn't leave knowing it might be destroyed. I had to search for it.”

“Is that why you were gone a whole month?”

Michael nodded.

Guilt say heavy in Gavin's stomach. If only he'd known. He wouldn't have worried about Michael or thought he did something to drive him away. Gavin wanted to kick himself for yelling at Michael about it.

“But why couldn't you tell me?” Gavin asked after a long silence. “You could have called--”

“Actually, no,” Michael interrupted. “Rural Greece has poor cell service to begin with, and there weren't any places to buy a cheap international phone I could use. No internet, either.” Something akin to regret crossed his face. “Like I said, not much of an issue if I hadn't disappeared for so long.”

“And when you called yesterday?”

Michael sighed. “I was in New York City. I just got back and called right away.”

Gavin felt his anger surfacing again. “You couldn't explain about the nest?”

That made Michael go silent. He opened his mouth a couple times, looked away in shame, took a few deep breaths. “Keeping our identity a secret,” he said, “is not a necessity for each phoenix. We can tell whoever we like at our own risk. But the nest . . . it's a sacred tradition not to reveal its location to anyone, in case they try to destroy it. A phoenix always takes a piece of the old nest to use in starting a new one when they're ready to die. It's partially why we take them to temples and altars. People rarely desecrate them, so it feels safer. I really couldn't tell you, Gavin. It's against everything I know about my species.”

“So, why now? Why're you telling me now?” Gavin spoke with less anger and more curiosity. The entire discussion was giving him a headache, with so much new information and his emotions tumbling through his mind.

“That's the other part of what I wanted to talk about.” Michael met his eyes, his own concerned and hopeful. He shifted closer to Gavin. “See—”

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

Both men froze, turned to see Geoff in the doorway, dressed only in pajama pants and frowning at them. Sleep was evident in his expression, clearing as he looked at Michael, Gavin, and back to Michael. “I thought you broke up with Gavin.” His tone was calm, level, but Gavin knew enough about Geoff to expect yelling the second Michael said something he didn't like.

“That was a misunderstanding,” Michael answered, faster and more confident than Gavin expected. “Gavin hung up before I could finish talking to him.”

Geoff pushed himself off the doorframe with his hip and stepped closer, arms crossed. “That's a pretty big misunderstanding to make, and I don't think Gavin's that stupid.”

“I'm explaining everything.” Michael stayed firm in his seat.

“I'd love to hear it.”

“Geoff.” Gavin stood and put a hand on his arm. “I'm not as upset with Michael as before. Don't chew him out while he's trying to get everything sorted.”

Michael must have caught the implication that Gavin still wasn't happy, his eyes flicking to him briefly before returning to Geoff.

Geoff stared at them both. He wasn't about to pick a fight and wake up his wife and daughter. He rubbed a hand over his face. “All right, explain what the fuck was going on,” he said, sitting on the far arm of the couch. He motioned for Gavin to sit, which he did, placing himself on the edge of the chair in case he had to get up fast and break up a fight. Not that he would be able to with two men who were both stronger than him, but better safe than sorry.

Michael groaned. “God, I don't want to say everything over. Look, basically I got stuck in Greece for a month.”

“Greece?” Geoff frowned, skeptical. “What the fuck were you doing?”

“Trying to find his phoenix nest,” Gavin said.

Michael's eyes went wide, head whipping around to look at the Brit. “It's all right,” Gavin said. “I, um, I told them about it. Sorry,” he said immediately, “but they were in the room when you called, and I said all that stuff about you 'cuz I was mad and not thinking-- look, I live with them, it was gonna come out eventually wasn't it?” Gavin babbled as Michael's expression changed from surprised to betrayed. “I'm sorry, Michael,” he said quietly.

Michael inhaled slow, exhaled carefully. “I'm not mad, really. It won't matter much anymore.”

Gavin wanted to ask why, but Michael turned to Geoff and kept talking. “Phoenixes are born in nests, a new one each time the previous one dies. I went to Greece trying to find my nest so I could use it to think about a lot of important stuff, since the nest is like a home for me, but it was missing. I spent a month flying around Greece as a big fiery bird, with no cell service and no internet, and I came back to the US yesterday, called Gavin, had an argument, and flew down to Austin ASAP to explain myself, and hopefully . . .” Michael gulped. “Hopefully, Gavin would take me back despite the piece of shit that I am, okay?”

Geoff's eyebrows drew together as he processed all this. He tapped his foot on the ground and chewed his lip a couple times, gaze moving between them. “You went to Greece, to find a nest? Just to think?”

“I needed to feel connected to my roots, like I told Gavin, but mostly, I wanted to put the nest where it belonged, in a temple,” Michael said. “I wouldn't normally tell anyone about the nest, not even Gavin, but I'm explaining now because of what I went there to think about.” Michael looked at Gavin. “I wasn't going to put the nest in a temple for a few more years. I liked having it where it was. Almost losing it was part of my motivation to find it and put it where it wouldn't be disturbed again. The other part of it was . . . I'm not going to stay a phoenix.”

Gavin waited for Michael to continue, to explain what he meant. The redhead didn't say any more, eyes trained on him. “What do you mean?” Gavin asked, failing to understand.

“Just that,” Michael said simply. “I told you that my powers get weak when I don't transform, right?”

Gavin nodded. Behind Michael, Geoff's face was scrunched in concentration and disbelief. If Gavin had trouble taking it all in, Geoff must be ready to throw the whole conversation out the window.

Michael said, “The longer I don't change into my phoenix form, the weaker my powers are, and the harder it is to change. If I stop completely, I'll lose my powers. I'll be a normal human, free of all things phoenix.”

“You'll lose-- Michael, you can't lose your powers!” Gavin shook his head violently. “It's part of who you are. I love you as a phoenix. You shouldn't give that up.” Not for me, Gavin thought to himself.

“But that's just the thing.” Michael smiled a bit and leaned forward, placing his hand over Gavin's where it rested on his knee. “I'm not giving anything up. I'm liberating myself.

“I've spent centuries switching between life as a phoenix and life as a human. As a human I made friends, had jobs, lived in places I loved. As a phoenix, I had to stay in the wild, and I couldn't be around anyone. Animals won't have anything to do with me, people try to hunt me, and there aren't any others of my kind. It's lonely, Gavin.”

The discussion they had some time ago, in this very room, came to Gavin's mind. Michael spoke about loneliness then, too. “So,” Michael continued, “I've actually thought about abandoning life as a phoenix before. I wanted to settle down, hated moving around and always worrying about being found out. But I felt this sense of obligation, that I had to keep my powers and give rise to the next phoenix, or wipe us out as a creature all together. I worried more about some arbitrary duty than I did about myself.”

Michael tugged Gavin's hand gently. Gavin complied, moving from the chair to sit next to him. Michael put a hand on his cheek, and Gavin wanted to lean into the familiar touch. He resisted, still looking at Michael.

“I told you I didn't think we should date,” Michael said, “because it wouldn't work between us as different species. But I let my feelings lead the way instead of my instinct, and I've never been happier. You've made me feel amazing, and wanted, and loved, more than I've ever felt in centuries on this dumb planet, Gavin. I went to Greece to find my old home so I could think the decision over, and ultimately, say goodbye to it. I'm never going back as an aged bird to give this miserable, lonely life to someone else. I'm ending the cycle here and staying with the man I love, and the people I love, here in Austin.”

Gavin stared at him as he took in the long speech. “We haven't known each other a year, Michael,” he said, thinking back to the first day they met last summer. “You can't make a decision like this for me. I'm just a dumb English dude.”

Michael frowned, leaned forward to butt their foreheads together. “I made this choice for me, Gavin. You just gave me the courage to finally go through with it. You and everyone else here in Austin.”

Gavin swallowed. “So, if you stop changing, you'll lose your powers?”

“All of them.” Michael tapped his arm with one hand. “No more hot skin. No more healing powers. No immortality. I'll be as normal as you or Geoff.”

Geoff snorted. “As if Gavin's normal.”

Michael shot him a look, turned back to Gavin. “What do you say? Would you want me back after all this shit?” He sounded nervous now, cheeks tinted the slightest pink with anticipation and hope.

“I do, Michael,” Gavin admitted. He smiled, tentative, wondering in the back of his mind if this would all be worth it, to accept the story and move on. “Are you sure this isn't a rash decision?”

“Positive.” Michael nodded. “I told you, this is something I've considered every time I led a human life. I don't want to be a phoenix.”

“Okay, okay, I'm interrupting here.” Geoff got up and stood before them. “Let me get everything here cleared up before my brain fucking explodes. You,” he pointed to Michael. “You've been a mythical fucking bird for god knows how many years. You can change into a phoenix?”

Michael nodded.

Geoff stared a couple seconds. “All right,” he said, not sounding convinced. “So you're the one who's been on the news radar. That sounds like a big secret. And you told Gavin about it because?”

“I didn't mean to at first.” Michael glanced at Gavin. “When he got hurt on our first date, I used my powers to heal the cut. I felt so fucking guilty for him getting hurt. And after that Gavin wouldn't stop pestering me. I figured I could trust him.” A smirk tugged at Michael's lips. “Plus, I cared about him enough at that point not to want to keep it from him.”

Gavin squirmed under his gaze. All this mushy stuff made him want to hide under a cushion.

Geoff raised an eyebrow. “And you loved this idiot enough to go to a country where you couldn't easily contact him, find some old nest you needed to take care of, and never change into a bird again, despite the fact you've been doing that your whole life?”

“Yes.” Michael nodded again. “I want to be with Gavin a long time. And even if something happens between us, I'd like to at least stay friends and keep living here.”

Geoff looked at Gavin. “Are you still mad at Michael?”

“Well--” Gavin stumbled over his own words. “I mean, leaving for that long doesn't seem like it should be excused, but Michael-- I never wanted to end things, and if he wants to stay . . .” Gavin edged a bit closer, took Michael's hand. “I can't really say no.”

Geoff kept looking at them a few minutes, and let out a long sigh. “I'm too tired for this shit. If everyone's happy, I'm going back to bed.” He turned pointedly to Gavin. “If he breaks your heart again, I really will beat him.”

Gavin gave him a lopsided grin. “No worries, Geoffrey.”

“All right then.” Geoff left swiftly, and soon the only sound in the room was the ticking clock.

Michael and Gavin sat in the silence a while, holding hands. Gavin checked the clock. It was past four in the morning. He had work. Now that Michael was back, Gavin supposed he would work, too. Gavin could imagine the looks on the faces of everyone at Rooster Teeth when their favorite angry redhead returned.

A thought struck him. “Bloody hell, Michael,” he said, facing him, “what are we going to tell everyone at work? They saw me moping, they probably think you moved away or something.”

Michael considered this. “I guess we can say I had stuff to deal with at my old home. It's not that far from the truth.”

“I acted like a kicked puppy all the time,” Gavin said, huffing. “They won't buy that.”

Michael shrugged. “Not their business what happens between us. I'll be back and we can be happy, that's what matters.” He paused. “We . . . we will be happy again, won't we?”

Gavin shrunk into himself, blushed. “I hope so.”

“I really am sorry.” Michael cupped his cheek again. “I never wanted to hurt you, Gavin. I would have told if I thought I could, I should have said something from the beginning, and I probably don't deserve forgiveness--”

Gavin shut him up with a kiss.

It felt wonderful. The longest month of Gavin's life, spent stuck in his own miserable mind, unable to accept or even want help from the people around him, had just ended. All he wanted was to kiss Michael forever and never let go. Gavin put his hands on Michael's shoulders, harsh as he pressed their lips together, feet rising off the floor to rest on the couch, giving him leverage to push closer to Michael. “I'm never letting you out of my bloody sight again,” he said, giving Michael a series of urgent pecks on his lips before moving to his jaw and kissing the skin there. Michael was still as hot as Gavin remembered. He made a mental note to absorb as much of that feeling as he could until Michael lost his powers.

“I won't leave,” Michael assured him, gasped when Gavin bit his neck. “I promise, Gavin. You were all I could think about while I was gone.”

“You're a prick.” Gavin's hands wandered to Michael's hips, massaging the skin through his shirt. “A fucking prick that I missed more than anything in my life.”

“I know.” Michael chuckled and pushed Gavin up to catch his lips again, working his tongue in and sweeping through his mouth. “Ugh, I forgot how good you taste.”

“Ah, likewise.” Gavin let himself get lost in another kiss. Michael shoved him until his back hit the arm of the couch, and moved Gavin under him so Michael was on top and in control, sucking and biting his lips while his hands slipped under his shirt.

They stayed that way a long time, though fuck if Gavin would have known if not for the clock on the wall. As Michael brushed gentle fingers over a nipple and ground their hips together, he caught sight of the time and realized how much they both needed to sleep if they wanted to be coherent in the morning. With incredible effort, Gavin said, “It's late.”

Michael drew back, reluctant and pouting. “We can stay home, can't we? Does work need us that badly?” He leaned in to lick Gavin's earlobe.

“Ngh, yes,” Gavin gasped. “Unfortunately, yes. Besides, I think we both used too many vacation days.”

Michael sat up with a frown. “Fine. We're having sex the second we get home, though.”

Gavin laughed. “More than agreed, my little boy.”

* * *

The reaction at Rooster Teeth was mixed.

On the one hand, everyone wanted to be happy to see Michael, along with Gavin revived to his normal self. Both acted a bit tired, but smiled and said hello to everyone they saw. Michael opened his arms for dozens of hugs.

However, each person that saw him hesitated before giving him a welcome. Every time, they looked at Gavin, as though to confirm the Brit was all right and everything between him and Michael was fine. Gavin smiled at them all. Assured that whatever happened with the two had passed, people would smile at Michael and hug him, and then they smiled for real as they remembered how much they missed him.

Ray gave the worst and best reaction. When they stepped in the Achievement Hunter office with Geoff, his eyes went big as saucers. Jack sat dumbfounded in his seat, checking Gavin like all the others and returning Michael's offered hug. “Nice to see you, man,” he said, shocked but genuinely pleased.

Ray kept staring. Michael stopped next to his desk and looked at him. “Hi, Ray.”

“Uh, hi.” Ray glanced at Gavin, back to Michael. “Where the fuck did you go?”

Michael shrugged. “There were a few problems back in Jersey. I had to stay for a while.”

If anyone in the office was calm and collected, it was Ray. He was the rock that kept everyone settled, never getting upset during Let's Plays or complaining about the amount of work he had to do. Now, though, his face shifted from surprised to angry, fists clenched, glaring at Michael. “You didn't tell any of us what was going on.”

“Yeah. I'm sorry about that.”

The two stared at each other a long time. Gavin, Geoff, and Jack watched from their seats. “You better have a good fucking excuse for worrying everyone here.” Ray's tone sent shivers down their spines.

Michael shifted on his feet. “I had to sort some stuff out,” he said, “to arrange for living here long term.” Not too far from the truth, Gavin thought as he watched the two. “It was hectic and I didn't have a chance to call anybody. But,” Michael looked in Ray's eyes, “I promise I'm not leaving again.”

Ray sat still, assessing what Michael said. He stood fast, Michael flinching to prepare for a punch. Instead, his friend gathered him in a tight hug, arms squeezing so hard Michael might have thought Ray was trying to choke him.

“You'd better not,” Ray said, “because we have a podcast to record this weekend.”

Michael smiled, hugged Ray back, glad his friend wasn't pissed. They let go, unable to look away from each other for a solid thirty seconds. Gavin might think they were going to kiss if Michael hadn't done so to him several times that morning during breakfast. The two men exchanged pleased grins before returning to their seats.

“Okay, idiots,” Geoff said, facing the center of the room. “Michael's back, we're all thrilled as dicks. But having him back means we need to rearrange our schedules again.”

The group groaned collectively.

Figuring out the schedule for videos in Achievement Hunter was a careful balance of who could handle what jobs, when people would be there, and how much content they had listed to do. A week after Michael left, Geoff changed all their jobs slightly to make up for lack of an employee. It was time to switch back and fill Michael in on what he missed.

They filmed a Let's Play that afternoon, in the Xbox 360 version of Minecraft. Geoff thought the sandbox style game would give them the freedom to mess around while still providing some structured goals such as collecting tools and building a house. Changing the plan from four to five people was one of the easier adjustments they made that day.

It turned out to be one of the most fun Let's Plays Achievement Hunter had done to date. Michael screamed at every corner, Gavin worked diligently, familiar with the game already, while Geoff and Jack tried their best to control them. Ray could barely be heard in the audio due to a microphone malfunction, and by the time they realized it, they'd been playing for an hour and decided to keep going.

Being able to laugh and have fun with his coworkers again put Michael on top of the world. Even the editing he had to work on after the recording couldn't dampen his mood. Gavin saw the joy in his face, smiling to himself.

Maybe the last month was an awful roller coaster, and maybe Michael could have done better to lessen their worries. Even so, Gavin couldn't be more thrilled to have his boy back with him.

* * *

There was one final issue to tackle before Michael and Gavin put the matter of Michael's identity behind them. Inconsequential as it was, Gavin couldn't help noticing the stares from Geoff and Griffon when they came over that evening for dinner. He waited until Millie went to bed to ask them about it. Their daughter was ecstatic to see Michael, playing with him and asking endless questions about where he went. The excitement exhausted her, and at ten Griffon tugged her off to bed, despite Millie's protests that she wanted to spend more time with Gavin and Michael.

The two boys sat together on the couch watching some sports program Geoff put on. Gavin tried to follow it, never one for sports, and eventually gave up to focus on how Michael felt curled next to him, their hands twined together.

Geoff was staring again, though. He sipped his beer and pretended to watch TV. Gavin caught him looking at Michael more than once. When Griffon returned and sat in her husband's lap, Gavin saw her looking at them the same way out the corner of her eye. “All right, what is it?” he asked, tired and annoyed.

“What?” Geoff took another swig.

“The goddamn looks,” Gavin said, frowning at them. “Don't think I don't see you doing that.”

“We're not looking at anything, Gavin,” Griffon said in a sweet tone. It was her mothering voice, which she only used when someone was hurt or she wanted to cover a lie.

Gavin snorted. “You might as well come out with it.”

“Dude, leave it alone,” Michael piped up from his place on Gavin's shoulder.

“I'm not leaving anything alone, because the last time I did that, you ran away without telling me where you were off to.”

Guilt filled Michael's expression, and he didn't speak again.  
“So, out with it,” Gavin said, looking at the Ramseys. “What's up?”

Geoff downed the rest of his beer and ignored Gavin. Griffon, however, sighed, and slid off Geoff. He gave her a look as if to ask why she was giving in. Griffon merely shook her head. “It's nothing, really,” she said, and Gavin could tell it was most definitely something. “It's just, Geoff and I are having a hard time . . . believing Michael.”

Gavin turned that over in his head, figured out what they meant. “Why would we lie about that?”

Griffon scratched the back of her neck. “I don't think you would. But, a phoenix? It's a lot to swallow, especially if that's Michael's excuse for disappearing.”

“I wouldn't have gone if I didn't think I had to,” Michael said, irritated.

“I know, I know.” Griffon put up both hands. “Gavin showed us pictures, we saw what the bird looks like. Connecting that to you is difficult.”

Michael lifted his head finally to frown. “There's not much I can do about that. I told you the truth, no more to it.”

Griffon had no response for that. Geoff continued to stare at the television and pretend they weren't talking about this. Gavin held Michael's hand to keep him calm, aware that a dispute about his true form might set him off.

“Did you tell them about my powers?” Michael turned to Gavin. “Everything I do besides changing?”

Gavin had to think back. “No,” he said as he mentally scrolled through the memory. “I mentioned the age problem because that's what started the whole mess, and the changing into a bird bit, of course. I don't think I mentioned anything else.”

“Not your arm or why I almost drowned?”

Gavin started, and shook his head.

“What now?” Geoff raised an eyebrow.

Michael looked at him. “I don't just change forms. Phoenixes have more abilities than that. Immortality isn't the only thing I lose if I stay a human.”

“He can heal, Geoff, like we told you last night,” Gavin added. “He healed my arm after the accident, that's why I wasn't as bothered as the doctor thought I should be. And Michael has to be careful around water, or else he risks drowning.”

“Jesus.” Geoff ran a hand down his face. “I didn't ask for a full explanation.”

“Well, I'm trying to prove the truth,” Michael said. “You guys have been fucking skittish since I came back. Do I have to change in front of you to make you believe what I'm saying?”

Both Ramseys were silent, glancing at each other.

Understanding dawned on Michael's face, followed by aggravation. “Oh, my God, I do have to prove it by transforming. I thought I was done with this shit.”

“You don't have to,” Griffon said, but she couldn't hide the hope in her voice. Gavin recognized the tone. She was latching on a chance to catch inspiration. Not many people got to see a firebird in person.

“I think he fucking does.” Geoff leveled his gaze at Michael. “You broke Gavin's heart, and he's like a son to me. If there's one thing I don't joke about, it's my family. So you better have the best reason on the planet for vanishing and coming back like you did.”

Michael watched them for any hesitation. They showed none. He sighed, pat Gavin's shoulder, and stood. “Let's do it, then.”

“Don't let them make you,” Gavin said, standing with him and taking Michael's hand again. Michael squeezed his fingers in response.

Griffon suppressed an eager smile. Geoff didn't move. Michael waited for them, gesturing to the door with his head. “This isn't happening inside, if that's what you think.”

Taking the hint, Griffon hurried out of the living room. Michael waited for Geoff to get up with a drawn out sigh, before trailing behind, tugging Gavin along. Griffon waited by the backdoor, camera already in hand, practically buzzing. She looked at Gavin apologetically. “Do you mind?”

“Ask Michael,” Gavin said, opening the sliding glass door.

“Sure,” Michael said when Griffon looked at him. “As long as you don't show anyone else,” he added in a warning tone. Griffon was quick to nod and go outside, turning the camera on and adjusting the settings.

Geoff and Michael stood by the open door, staring at one another.

Michael crossed his arms. “You're still pissed, I gather?”

“Yes.” Geoff's fingers clenched. “I like you, Michael, but this is far fetched.”

He shrugged. “Well, you'll see how far fetched it is when I show you. Come on.” Michael went outside and walked up to Gavin, tussling the Brit's hair. Gavin gave a quiet yelp and hurried to smooth it down, doing absolutely nothing to make it look better.

Geoff sidled over to his wife, who kept checking and double checking her camera. Michael kissed Gavin's cheek, and observed the state of the yard. The lawn chairs were pushed back to the edges of the fence and the pool was covered in a tarp to keep debris out. Other than that, it was empty, grass glinting slightly in the light from the house. “Can anyone see into here?” Michael asked Geoff, scanning the line above the house. They weren't exactly secluded, though the trees around obscured the view.

“I'll tell them Griffon was working on a project,” Geoff said lazily. Michael eyed him, curious.

But it was good enough for him. Michael removed his glasses, gave them to Gavin, and stepped away from them to an open spot on the grass, planting his feet firmly. “This is the last time I do this,” he warned. “If I transform, it extends my time as a phoenix. I want to stay human and get rid of my powers as soon as possible. So, take a good look.”

Gavin gulped. If they got caught, they were in big trouble. He hoped this would be quick and they could go back to cuddling on the couch, or even go home. They still hadn't had the chance to be alone together since Michael got home, and if Gavin were honest, he missed Michael in more ways than one. He stepped from one foot to another, gaze locked on his boyfriend.

Griffon held her camera up, ready to hit the button. Geoff frowned, skepticism evident in his eyes. Michael looked at each of them, and turned to the ground, breathing deep.

When Michael said he wasn't doing something anymore, he meant it. And though Gavin only heard him say that so far in reference to games, he knew Michael would be just as serious about this. If he never wanted to change again, he wouldn't. Gavin didn't dare look away and miss the last time he would ever see a phoenix transform.

It began as it had before. Michael breathed long and slow, concentrating. The air around them got hot quickly. Gavin felt himself starting to sweat. In his peripheral, he saw Griffon fanning her shirt and Geoff uncross his arms.

Michael's head snapped to the sky as the air around him moved. It swirled around his body, his private windstorm, mussing his hair and tugging his clothes. The Ramseys gasped. Gavin couldn't help but smile victoriously. He rarely got to prove Geoff wrong.

A small spark ignited the tornado, flames bursting from nothing, engulfing Michael's body. “Shit!” Geoff tried to move, help in some way. Gavin ran to him and pulled his sleeve. Geoff was sweating visibly, panic in his eyes.

“It's fine,” Gavin assured him. He pulled the older man back and continued to watch Michael.

They heard a groan of pain from within the fire. The temperature spiked further. The tornado was vicious, looking like it would set everything alight, though Gavin knew it was harmless. Geoff and Griffon glanced from Michael's storm to their backyard to the trees around them and back again. It didn't take long to learn the flames weren't hurting anything, but by that point, Michael transformation had nearly finished.

The fire and heat died simultaneously. Gavin felt a thrill running through him at the sight of his boy, changed into the beautiful bird and calling in that musical tone. It occurred to Gavin he might never hear that again, and he scrambled to get his phone out. He opened a video and started recording just in time for Michael to give another melodic call, glad he was able to catch the noise. The light from Michael's body obscured the video image, too bright for his mediocre phone to handle. Gavin didn't care much, as long as the audio kept well. His eyes weren't on the video long anyway, more excited to look at Michael in person.

Geoff and Griffon stood frozen a long time. Gavin broke the stunned silence by walking up to Michael and petting his head, brushing his fingers along the purple and red plumage. Michael dipped his head low and butted Gavin's chest the way he did last time he changed. “This is Michael, guys,” Gavin said, turning to face them. “In all his mythical glory, I guess.”

Griffon was the first to react. She moved closer, one slow step at a time, until she was a foot away and mesmerized. “He's beautiful,” she murmured. “Can I . . . can I touch his feathers?”

Gavin shrugged. “Ask Michael.”

Griffon looked directly at him. “Would you mind?”

Michael took a step closer, tail feathers sweeping the ground as he moved, wings fluffing a bit. He dipped his head low as he did with Gavin, offering it. Griffon hesitated, and brought up the hand not holding her camera. She touched the crest that rose off the back of his head and, growing bolder, gave Michael a few runs over his scalp, threading her fingers through the feathers. Michael released a small cry, a noise akin to bells ringing.

“This isn't fucking happening.” Geoff finally came over, eyes wide. “No fucking way is a magical bird in my back yard. How-- how the fuck did Michael hide this?”

“Not well,” Gavin admitted. “That's how the news kept catching sight of him. Michael had to change fairly often to let out energy. It's hard for him not to change, honestly.”

“Jesus.” Geoff was bolder than Griffon, running a hand over Michael's head and down the upper portion of his neck. Michael shook his head and fluffed his wings again. Geoff started at the movement, drew back. Michael dipped his head up and down a couple times, cawing soft and happily. Gavin wondered if he were laughing.

“I wish this kind of beauty was something you could keep, Michael,” Griffon said. “If you have to give this up to be with Gavin, well, it'd be a difficult decision for me, too.”

Michael butted Gavin's chest again. Gavin smiled, touched his head.

Gathering her senses, Griffon brought the camera up. “Can I take some pictures? I promise they'll only be for me.”

Michael moved away from Gavin, spreading his wings. It looked as majestic as Gavin remembered. Griffon fumbled with the camera, shaking with excitement. Geoff was still staring, unable to believe the situation before him.

Griffon brought the camera to her face, adjusting the lens. Michael flapped his wings once, held them still for her. She smiled as she clicked the button, several clicks going in rapid fire. Griffon bent lower and took another batch, and did the same for each side. Michael stayed obediently frozen until she put the camera down to look at what she got, after which he tucked his wings back in and watched the group.

Unlike the camera Gavin got from his parents, Griffon had a professional camera she paid quite a bit of money for, and used it to capture images of her art before it was bought by local enthusiasts, or in the case of her murals, painted over in favor of something else. It handled lighting much better than Gavin's camera, catching each fiery glint off Michael's feathers. The soft glow he emitted looked almost like a halo around his body. “Beautiful,” Griffon whispered. She brought it back up to snap a few more, catching Michael off guard. He jumped a bit and drew back before relaxing again. Griffon muttered a quiet apology, absorbed in her work.

“Do you believe us now?” Gavin turned to look at Geoff standing next to him.

“I guess I fucking have to.” He blew out a long breath, moving to look at Griffon as she walked around Michael to get every angle. “And Michael . . . he would really live forever, if he stayed this way?”

Gavin shook his head. “Not exactly. Michael as we know him would die in a few centuries and create a new phoenix. The bird is immortal, in a sense. In any case, he couldn't stay here without people noticing something suspicious.”

Geoff chewed his lip idly. “How do you feel? About him giving this up for you?”

Guilt swirled in the pit of Gavin's stomach, and he swallowed. “Not good,” he admitted. “But Michael's stubborn as hell. If this is what he wants, he'll get it.”

“You'll forgive him leaving you?”

“He was saying goodbye to his home, so, yeah. I'm only miffed he didn't tell me before he went.”

Geoff crossed his arms again. His wife had stopped with her pictures and was kneeling on the ground, fingering Michael's feathers, running her hands down his back over and over again. “You two really love each other.”

Gavin blushed. “Yes.”

He stumbled when Geoff slapped him hard on the back, and followed the motion with gentler pats as Gavin straightened himself. “I'm glad you're happy,” he said, softly.

“Thanks, Geoff.” Gavin beamed at him.

Michael cried out again, louder than before. Griffon moved away from him, Gavin stepped closer. Michael butted his head on him once more. “Do you want to change back?” Michael nodded as best he could, moving away. Gavin nodded in kind, rejoining the Ramseys.

Another heat wave, another fire tornado. They had to shield their eyes from the light briefly. The change back was faster, less than a minute, and when it ended, Michael stood in front of them, human once more, panting hard. Gavin handed his glasses to him and touched his head lightly, playing with the curls. Michael smirked, wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. “I'm human from now on,” he said. “No more phoenix, ever.”

Gavin hugged him back. “Thank you, Michael.”

Griffon and Geoff approached slowly, waiting until the tender moment ended itself. Griffon grinned at Michael. “That was beautiful, probably one of the most amazing things I'll ever be able to see.”

“Impressive,” Geoff agreed.

“Glad you finally fucking believe me.” Michael leaned against Gavin, exhaustion running through him. “Can we please go home now?”

“I'll drive,” Geoff offered.

After a long goodbye and profuse thanks from Griffon for the pictures, the trio of men slid into Geoff's car, Michael and Gavin in the back together. Geoff turned the radio on and left it at a low volume, humming the music as he drove.

“I'm glad that's over with.” Michael buried his face in Gavin's shoulder.

“Mm.” Gavin tucked his chin over Michael's head, breathing in his scent. His skin was still hot, practically burning him in the tight space. Soon that would go away; Michael would be as normal as everyone else. As much of a pain as it was to sleep with a living oven, Gavin knew he would miss the feeling.

“All right, bitches, we're here.” Geoff parked outside the apartment complex and leaned over the front seat to look back at them. “I'll wait until you get inside before I leave.”

“We aren't children, Geoff,” Gavin said, and Geoff gave him a look, so he urged Michael off him and they got out. Geoff watched through the window as they made their way around the front gate and across the parking lot, up the stairs to Michael's apartment. When Michael dug his keys out and opened the door, Gavin heard the sound of an engine starting, gone as they strode inside.

Thankfully for Michael, he paid his rent in chunks for the year, a large bill every three months as opposed to a smaller one once a month. He didn't miss rent while he was gone, and the apartment was just as Gavin left it when he decided to live with Geoff again. Games strewn about the living room floor, some clothes hung on the back of the couch. There were even dishes in the sink, with a bit of moldy food that made Gavin wretch and run past it to the hall. Michael laughed as he followed, giggling at the sight of Gavin panting on the bed.

“It's not funny,” he growled, but smiled as Michael sat next to him and gave him a light kiss.

“Is this it?” Michael asked, kissing him again. “Are we normal again? Done with all the mythical drama and bullshit?”

“Yes, thank Christ.” Gavin cupped Michael's face to kiss him deeper, their lips soft and warm against each other. It didn't take long for a hand to wander, running down Michael's chest, slipping under the edge of his shirt. Michael groaned and opened his mouth to brush his tongue on Gavin's lip.

“Please tell me we can finally fuck again,” he moaned as Gavin pulled back to bite and nip his neck. Michael fisted a hand in Gavin's hair and tugged gently.

“Hope you're prepared,” Gavin muttered against the skin. “I've missed you a lot. Been pretty frustrated without you.”

“Didn't I teach you about taking care of yourself while I'm gone?” Michael tugged Gavin back by the hair and hurried to removed his shoes and socks, grinning up at his boyfriend as he did so.

Heat bloomed across Gavin's cheeks, completely unrelated to the sweltering man next to him. “You tried,” he said, remembering the night that seemed like it happened ages ago. He took off his shoes as well, and they situated themselves in the middle of the bed.

Michael grabbed his shoulder and pushed Gavin down easily. “If my being gone was that bad, obviously I didn't teach you well enough.” He shoved Gavin's shirt up and started kissing his stomach, drawing a gasp from the Brit.

“Wasn't exactly in the mood to jerk off,” Gavin spat at him, trying to sound aggravated and coming across as desperate.

Michael sat up on his elbows to look him in the eyes. “Well, I'm here now. And I'm gonna make up for everything if it kills me.” He pulled himself up to kiss Gavin again. “I'll never leave you again, Gavin. I love you.”

Gavin squirmed as Michael kissed over his jaw and down his neck. “I love you, too, Michael.”

“I know.” Michael smirked again. “Let's get your pants off, shall we?”

Gavin laughed, thrilled and full of anticipation.

His only regret in meeting Michael Jones was that they weren't both immortal, so they could spend centuries sharing their lives. But Gavin could settle for what he had, a tiny apartment in the state of Texas, with his best friend and lover by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know with a comment or a message if there is anything in the story that could be seen as offensive (such as slurs or shaming) so I can add a warning. I did my best to avoid anything, but I'm human and tend to slip during editing.


End file.
